


For Good Things Should Be Praised

by ShirlyGallagher



Series: A WestCoast Epilogue [2]
Category: Archie Comics, Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anniversary, Blasts from the Past, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Dream House, Dream Library, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, I Won't Keep You Waiting Though, Lingerie, Nostalgia, OTP Feels, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Young Parents, book nerds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-03 01:51:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17274839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShirlyGallagher/pseuds/ShirlyGallagher
Summary: 4 years after becoming parents, Betty and Jughead settle into adult life...But soon they find themselves moving to the most impressive yet intimate of places...~~~





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration is a fickle bitch. She comes and goes, but when she's here...god...she's fierce.
> 
> This story kinda came together on a whim.
> 
> Please remember that this is pure and utter fantasy; a fluffy story set in an ideal alternate universe. It helps if you're familiar with the rest of my work, but it's not necessary. This could be read as a one-shot :)
> 
> Un-betaed...you know, as per usual.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are GOLDEN. So please don't hesitate!! And I won't either ;)

Jughead loaded the last of their furniture into his truck early that November morning, completely accustomed to how mild the weather was in their buzzing coastal town. He was only in a few layers that day, a flannel and hoodie, easily combating the damp morning. Nothing compared to the cold eastern climate that he was about to be welcomed back in to.

Once everything was sufficiently stacked Jughead went back inside to check and double check the empty loft, reminiscing about everything that had transpired within the very vacant space.

So much had happened within those walls, the softwood and solid brink held cherished memories, monumental moments and even some painful reminders. This one-room loft had been their first home, space that they had grown together in, a rollercoaster of emotion and accomplishment, a sanctuary scraped together by their own hands and a space in which they themselves had also grown.

As individuals and also as a collective family unit they had experienced so much growth and such an evolution within the space that saying goodbye felt so bittersweet. The usual chaotic bustle of living in their loft all together was now replaced by an eerie quiet, one that Jughead was all too eager to escape.

Later that morning he was driving their well-loved hand-me-down furniture to JB in Crescent City California then travelling on route to Los Angeles the next day. There, he would be meeting up with Jinx and Fletcher to sit down with SpringValley Productions, as the company wanted to potentially turn their series of graphic novels into a TV show, or a movie...or several.

So with that Jughead had loaded his kids and fiancée into the 'new to them' SUV and sent them off with a u-haul attached almost 6 weeks ago now. He, however, stayed behind to give proper notice, finish packing and get them ready for their final walk through. He'd be dammed if they didn't get every cent of their damage deposit back. He also wanted to be present with Jinx and Fletcher to make any necessary adjustments to their pilot treatment, before their big meeting.

Well over 4 years ago, when his enthusiastic comic book pals came to him with the idea of writing something, he thought I would be fun. A hobby. Something to occupy and clear his mind. It turned out to be a lot more than a hobby. It turned out to be the most life changing experience to date, almost rivalling the birth of his sons.

The 'work' he had taken on was nothing like he had experienced before. Doing something that you're passionate about and then actually being recognized and praised for it? Well, it was all incredible and exhausting, inspiring and crushing, rousing and humbling.

Everything happened so quickly, and from the moment Jughead put his pen to paper he'd been in a vortex of inspiration and creativity that he had never known before. In a blink they had finished the first book, then they were being published, then selling out of stock, then writing a sequel. In the end, their books wound up being wildly successful, so much so that with his first 'paycheck' he was able to buy their second car, flat out, in cash, which Betty now drove.

Since then the money had yet to cease its flow. Which absolutely blew his mind.

He had grown up poor, the kind of poor that had you eating boxed mac and cheese or canned beans and rice more than any human really should. Or had him digging for change in couch cushions and returning empties for his Pop's allowance. He'd never had money and had never known what it was like to have an abundance of it. Neither of them had, really. Though his youth was far more impoverished than Betty's was, they both knew struggle.

But now, that wasn't so much of a worry anymore, now things were much, much, easier. 

Betty still did her freelance writing, but the sales, royalties and whatnots from his books kept them aptly comfortable, with plenty to spare and save.

In the grand scheme of it all, Betty and the kids would have stayed behind with him, stood beside him in LA for moral support, and would have hung back to share in moving journey together.

But Riverdale called them back sooner than either had expected.

Polly sent Betty the property listing as a joke, so she said. A house, or rather, a near mansion in Midvale that had just come up for sale. Not especially affordable, but, for what it was, a steal of a deal none the less. Polly, as Riverdale's newly minted and top real-estate agent, had first dibs and was eager to show off the hidden gem.

The property was a classic Victorian home complete with a wrap around porch and set on 15 lush acres which backed onto Eversgreen forest. It had multiple outbuildings, veggie and herb gardens, with well-groomed landscapes, mature trees, fruits, bushes and vines. The land also had SweetWater creek running through it, along with a large pond, that even had a weeping willow which canopied a rope swing.

In truth, they could have signed the papers remotely, with the help from the internet. They trusted Polly to make sure all their affairs were in order, but because it was such a big 100-year-old house (the first permanent structure having been built somewhere near 1901), and with so much land, Betty wanted to be there for the final inspection. Though the main house was grand it was still old, and the previous owners allowed it to lay vacant for nearly 2 years prior to selling it, due to their own declining health issues. Still, something about walking around with a clipboard in hand while analyzing everything really spoke to her. Especially when the stakes were so high.

This was a huge decision, a once in a lifetime opportunity. To own a house with such a rich history, near their hometown, friends, and family urged them to take the risk. Midvale had always held a special place on both their hearts, but logically they needed to run the facts. So they rolled it over at length, knowing they had far outgrown their Seattle loft, weighing out all the pros (a lengthy list) and cons (a medium sized one, at best) until they reached a verdict; they were going to raise their family back in New York. They would uproot and move back, they'd trade big city living for the quiet country life. Their kids were going to grow up an hour away from the place they had grown up and together in. Where they had fallen in love.

So with the help of Kevin (who offered to fly down to Seattle and drive back to Riverdale with Betty, to help with the boys) they divided their efforts and conquered. She drove their life across the country, spending nearly 12 whole days making the trek that Jughead intended to do in 5 or less. He had offered to stay behind, but now that it had been almost 6 weeks since he'd seen his whole entire world, he couldn't wait to get back to them.

Jughead stood in the middle of their empty space, remembering when they had first moved into the loft. He and Betty both stood where he was currently standing and she bet him she could easily do 10 cartwheels on a row across the dye-stained hardwoods. Thankfully he didn't take the bet though, because she did it with room to spare. But he smiled at the reverie, reluctant now to close the door on this chapter of their life.

Betty had already shed her tears as they packed up the boy's nursery space. Then cried when Jughead dismantled each boy's crib, cried once more when she was leaving the house, and then cried again at the curb while saying goodbye to him. But, Jughead's tears were reserved for very rare occasions, and yet the sadness still hung heavy over his heart. Saying a real goodbye to their home, without her there, felt almost disrespectful.

So he called her.

"Hey, honey!" Betty answered on the second ring.

"Hi. I'm sorry it's early,"

"It's ok, I'm up," She replied lightly, "-All ready to hit the road?" She then asked.

Jughead could hear chatter over breakfast in the background, the boys presumably, maybe even Archie and Fred or Kevin. He smiled, thinking about the decades long friendships they were about to reacquaint with, and about the family units they had been missing in their west coast life that would soon be reconnecting in Riverdale.

"Yea, I'm just about to lock it all up."

They sat quietly for a moment as Jughead moved into the kitchen and aimlessly opened some miscellaneous cupboards and drawers, along with the fridge, knowingly finding them all empty.

"Feeling nostalgic?" She asked.

"Yea." He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, "-I wish you were here,"

"Me too, dear."

Jughead and their landlady had done the walk through the night before, so all he had to do now before hitting the road was drop their keys in her mailbox and he would be off.

He took a deep breath, scanning the apartment, satisfied that he had everything. With Betty still on the line, he let himself into the mudroom and descended the stairs for the final time.

"Well, I guess this is it," Jughead muttered.

At their street-level landing, he stopped and locked the door behind himself. He let out another heavy sigh as the key latched the lock smoothly.

"Bye house," Betty said in her quiet good riddance.

Jughead huffed out another quiet laugh at her small addition and quickly walked across their street to drop the keys into Mrs.Stricktland's mailbox. He pulled a thank you card that Betty insisted he leave behind from his breast pocket, complete with a gift card to a neighbourhood favourite coffee shop and their new forwarding mailing address and dropped that in too.

"It is done,"

"Ooh, I just got a shiver,"

Jughead laughed, "Alright, my love. I'm gonna hit it,"

"Ok, call me when you get to Jelly's,"

"I will."

"I love you, Jug."

"I love you too, Betts. Say hi to the kids for me, tell them I'll be home soon,"

"They've been counting down already." She replied, her voice teasing and honest, "-I'll talk to you this afternoon,"

~~~

8 hours into his cross-country journey he arrived at JellyBean's apartment in Crescent City.

JB was almost finished with her own schooling, earning her bachelor's degree in Music followed by her Master's degree in Music Therapy. She was happy to see the finish line and planned on moving back to New York as soon as she was through.

With the Jones' newfound financial freedom trips to and from California were less few and far between. He knew his way around her town and was sure to pick up Mystic Bean Coffee on the way in, knowing she was likely up late the night before (a night owl creature, like himself) and therefore was likely still waking up at nearly 2 pm.

His sister greeted him warmly with a hug before she snatched the coffee from his grips and introduced her new boyfriend, 'Wayne'. They exchanged pleasantries, the kid seemed nice enough, a bit basic, and Jughead could tell he wouldn't be seeing the guy again, much like the hand full of other guys JB had introduced as such. He knew his sister and knew she bored easily. The rotation of guys in her life didn't really bother him, mostly because he trusted Jelly to know and do what was right for her. He knew she needed, or rather, he knew she craved challenge, and not in a completely competitive sort of way, though she did like to win. No, she needed intellectual stimulus, archived through debate, conversation, and open communication or whatever you wanted to call it. The likes of which were in short supply within her age bracket, allegedly. Her standard for acceptable conversation was high. Unapologetically so. She had many friends, hobbies, interests, ideas and opinions and needed a match in her mate. Which she had yet to find, but she was hardly shy in her pursuit. JB had always been far more outgoing than Jughead ever was, so none of this seemed out of place on her.

After a small amount of catch up Jughead pulled the truck into the loading bay of JB's building and with the help of her 'boyfriend' they unloaded the 'new to her' furniture into her walk up apartment.

Once they had hauled everything up 3 flights of stairs and moved it around to her liking, they bid her flavour of the month fair-well and sat down to their regular routine of pizza and a horror movie.

2 large deep dish pepperonis later Jughead hit the pillow and slept like the dead. He had been so tired that he didn't even remember or bother to change into something comfortable to sleep in, passing out in his flannel, jeans, and shoes.

~~~

11 hours after saying goodbye to Jelly he was in LA, parking a block away from where he was meeting his writing partners.

Jinx and Fletcher both had a room in the same hotel, and after a quick change into his interview suit and a 'whore's bath', as the guys called it, they were off to hear their future.

The whole experience was so fucking surreal.

Walking up to a mirrored glass building that nearly touched the clear blue Californian sky, Jughead's palms instantly began to sweat.

In all honesty, he knew exactly what to expect. He had sat in on countless meetings such as this one, where an artist was pitching their dream to a room full of powerful strangers. But this was different. This was Jughead: the writer, and not Jughead: Director of Video Production. This was their own team going out on a limb, grabbing for something that none of them ever thought would have been an option.

He and Fletcher let Jinx do most of the talking because naturally, he just did. The man was a salesman by occupation, after all. There were a few points within the meeting that had them each chiming in, but for the most part, Jughead just listened and tried not to sweat through his suit.

Nothing definitive as agreed upon by the end the meeting, but keen interest was shown and the obligatory 'We'll be in touch soon.' came tumbling out of a few different mouths. Still, Jughead tried not to get his hopes too high. Though things looked good, they could still say no. They could change their tune and say they wanted to alter everything, which none of the guys would have been ok with. They could still face soul-crushing rejection.

So he focused hard on his upcoming trip back to his family. Something he could control.

He spent that night on the pull-out couch in Fletcher's hotel room. After a quick dinner and a much-needed shower, he was out of commission, crashing hard on the scratchy white hotel linens.

~~~

15 hours spent driving the next day landed him in Wyoming, pulling his mostly empty truck into the parking lot of some dumpy and questionable motel. There was likely a larger or nicer hotel in the next town over, but he was done, beyond over it, and starving and this place had a 24-hour diner attached, so, here he was.

The next morning he gathered himself together at the soft twilit dawn, to settle in for 17 hours behind the wheel. Had he gotten farther the day before, or allowed himself an extra day in travel time, either would have eased his suffering today. But, at least he got a home cooked meal out of it from Mary in Chicago.

~~~

Having spent a comfortable night at Mary's house, he left with a full belly and promises to hug, kiss, and squish his kids for her. He was also on the hook to shower Betty with some extra love too, specify from Mrs. Andrews.

With a fueled determination that morning to make it all the way to Riverdale by the end of the day, he hit the dusty trail. It would be another long haul, but again, he was so fucking over it and needed to be back with his people, so he'd happily suffer.

~~~

12 hours later he rolled into Riverdale.

It was oddly eerie, driving past the 'Town with Pep' sign. They had been back to visit, many times, over the years, and it wasn't as though they had become foreigners in their own hometown, but the strange feeling only intensified as he entered each nostalgic neighbourhood. He drove past The Pembrooke, The Bijou, Riverdale High, the Cooper's and the Andrews', and then Pop's, all locations unchanged and near silent at this late hour.

Maybe it was because it was the middle of the night? Or the fact that he was alone? Or was it because the clear sky cast a frosty glint across the ground? Or maybe it was because there was real finality to this trip back to Riverdale, that caused his skin to tingle and sent his heart racing?

Though he had been texting with Betty off and on all day at each pit stop or meal break, her texts went silent after dinner, which was to be expected with baths and bedtime routines well underway at that point. He sent one last text, a burger emoji with the words 'almost home' as he passed Pop's.

Then he continued on for another hour into Midvale and followed his GPS instructions from there for the next few miles. It was pitch black as he drove down the maintained dirt road, the missing street lamps of town very obvious.

He apprehensively slowed as he came closer to his destination. Tall pillars covered in overgrown Virginia creeper and English ivy masked the manor's entrance, camouflaging it and the house number almost completely, and had he not slowed to an absolute crawl he would have completely missed it. 2 sconce style gas lanterns lit his path slightly, so, allowing 'Big Green' to idle he hopped out and unlocked the gate with the new looking keypad. He then pushed the heavy rod-iron open with a shove, the hinges creaking like a groaning animal before he was able to drive the truck through. He stopped to quickly lock the gate back up behind himself then drove the rest of the way with his seatbelt off and his window cracked, despite the cold. The lane-way was at least a mile long and covered in thick trees that lined both sides of his path like a lush tunnel of turning foliage weaving through the countryside.

Betty wasn't kidding when she said the driveway to their new house looked like the opening sequence to some sort of horror flick.

He gawked a moment as he pulled up to the house, a warm glow flooding a few windows as he approached the towering structure. The massive display of brick and mortar looked nothing like the pictures he'd seen, and in the moonlit night, it looked more like The House on Haunted Hill than his growing family's new home.

But the warmth that poured from the windows masked that initial morbid thought and he parked right up front before killing the engine.

As Jughead stepped out with a well-earned stretch he was hit with the crisp fall air, then struck with the noiseless tranquillity that the dark countryside was cloaked in. He drank both in with deep breaths, stretching out his sore muscles even more.

He grabbed his bag but left the rest, he'd spend time unloading the truck in the morning. He also contemplated locking up the cab and back canopy and chuckled at himself; those big city habits were going to be hard to break.

As he approached the porch steps Betty came through the huge front doors dressed in his ratty blue 'S' t-shirt, her soft pink PJ shorts and a long thick woollen cardigan. Her hair was pulled up wildly, her smile wide, her feet bare. He instantly felt himself let out a slow steady breath at the sight of her, the tension in his shoulders from driving all day fizzling away to nearly nothing.

"Betty Cooper, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

"That's Betty Jones to you," She replied without any hesitation.

Before he had a chance to reply with more than a smile she came bounding down the stairs and launched herself into his arms. With his feet still planted firmly on the ground, he caught her easily, his grip wrapping up under her thighs.

She wove her arms around his neck, fingers habitually sinking into his hair, her legs hooked around his waist ike a vice. Jughead buried his face into the crook of her neck as she held onto him like he was a life raft.

"-You're here," She purred, the sweet nuzzle of her cheek and nose drawing him towards her mouth.

Jughead moved into her advance, her lips landing softly on his as he hoisted her up against himself, pulling her in even closer.

He sank into her luscious kiss, moving with her in a practiced ease that had been missed, desperately, over the past 40 some days apart. Her fingers curled into the back of his neck, gripping and soothing with equal intensity, sending goosebumps over every inch of his skin.

Kissing Betty would never get old, it never felt mundane, or ever felt routine. She was every inch a goddess, and she kissed him like he deserved every speck of her ethereal like benevolence. Each kiss felt like the very first and very last. The rush of adrenalin, that surge of passion, the twisting of his guts when she pulled away, ever constant and unyielding.

She sighed a small moan into him and he couldn't help but kiss her again, this time with far more intensity. Groaning a low sigh of his own he teased at the seam of her lips with his tongue, coaxing her open for him. She obliged willingly, pressing into him, clearly trying to pour 6 weeks worth of kisses into a single heart-stopping exchange.

It worked.

Suddenly feeling lightheaded, Jughead turned them both and sat himself down on the porch steps, somehow finding motor function between hungry lips and tongues to ground them. She settled solidly on his lap with a shuffle, knees flanking his hips, her core hot and rolling against his own.

"I missed you," She whispered into the quiet night, her head tipped as he trailed kisses across her cheek and down the length of her neck. "-I missed this."

He hummed his reply against her sweet skin and returned to her lips, kissing her with an unabashed passion that was stoked by miles, and time, and distance, and longing. As their kiss continued his hands slipped from her hips, pushing up under the fabrics of her t-shirt and sweater, his cool fingers finally coming in contact with the warm skin of her back.

She gasped a little against his lips, spiking his desire and emboldening him. So without missing a beat, his hands moved from her back to cup both her breasts. He felt her nipples purl under his touch, straining against her sports bra, his thumbs drawn to each bud like magnates.

She broke their kiss to gasp fully this time coupled with a moan of his name, before kissing him fiercely once again. With her own fingers still threaded through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, she held him tightly against herself as they kissed, their touches becoming more fevered with each grasp of skin and gasp for breath.

Then Jughead skillfully slipped his hands up under the lycra covering her chest, groaning as he cupped each soft and perfect mound in his hands.

Betty gasped again, fully breaking away from his lips this time, "Jug..."

Her soft protest was futile though since she was already trembling. He smirked, and rolled the pads of his thumbs across each hardened nipple, purposefully, just how he knew she liked.

With his forehead now pressed to hers, he watched this hands move under her shirt, feeling satyric and near drooling as he fondled her, "I missed you so much," His voice came out far deeper than intended, causing her to shiver at the timbre, "-You are my favourite everything."

She mewled and kissed him fucking senseless then, his own movements halting as she moved thoroughly against him. She explored every inch of his mouth, kissing him as though she may never get another chance, effectively turning his brain to mush.

"My toes are cold," She mumbled in between kisses.

Jughead smirked and figured as much since she had been trying to dig her toes under his legs for the past few minutes. Had she not spoke up though, he might have been lost within her current all too quickly. Instead, he chuckled and pulled back to get a good look at her, appraising her flushed and smiling.

He slipped from under her shirt to tuck a stray lock of blonde behind her ear. "Let's go inside then,"

Betty grinned and slithered off his lap, holding out both hands to help hoist him back onto to his feet. Once vertical and adjusted she turned him towards their front door.

Slowly, he pulled his body up the porch steps and made it into the house.

"Welcome home, Juggie." She said coming inside behind him.

He was hit with the warmth first; deep, heavy and herbal. He dropped his bag as he entered, and tossed his driving glasses onto a small nearby table as well.

It was discombobulating, really, walking into a house you didn't know, but recognizing all your things in their rightful and new places. He kicked off his shoes and walked into the foyer, peeking his head around corners to see more familiar trinkets and toys. He saw the fireplace holding nothing but embers in the family room to his right, but could still hear the low crackle of another fire burning in one of the other 5 stoves somewhere in the house.

"Where are the boys?"

"Upstairs, I'll show you," Betty replied, gesturing over her shoulder towards to grand staircase behind her, "-Do you want the tour?"

"Later," He muttered backing her up by the shoulders and inching them both towards the stairs.

Betty nodded with a smile and turned to lead the way. Jughead followed her up the slightly curved staircase, noticing the extra wide steps under his feet all while trying to focus on his footing, rather than his fiancée's sweet ass ahead of him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just got too impatient and had to post!
> 
> I was trying to stick to a weekly Wednesday update but...my excitement got the better of me :)
> 
> ~~~

At the top landing, the upstairs level split into 2 wings. To the left was the master suite, equipped with a full bath, dressing room, walk-in closet and sitting area, and to the right were 3 bedrooms and another full bathroom. The boy's room was the first door on the right, cracked open only slightly, the warm glow of their nightlight spilling into the dark hallway through the crack.

Betty had the kid's room set up comfortable, yet functional. Though they had enough space, the tiny tykes shared a bedroom, and they'd adjust to their own rooms later, as needed. But right now, it was easier to have them both in the same place and it seemed as though the boys slept better that way anyway. Like due to the fact that it was something they were used to, from sharing a section of cornered off space in their family loft.

Jughead stepped into the quiet room behind Betty before shifting her out of the way, so they could both take in each bed individually.

He swore that each boy looked exactly like Betty, save for the full, wavy, dark hair that was clearly his Jones genes taking over. Both had her wide green eyes, her sloped and button nose, her full cuspid's bow lips, hell, they even had her ears. Everything about their appearance screamed his beloved, though his ink black hair and each boy's temperament served as a constant reminder to whom their co-creator was.

"They look so different," He observed, his voice hushed.

"You think?" Betty asked softly.

"Hunter looks bigger," Jughead said as he gently rubbed the toddler's belly, Betty smiled her quiet reply. "-Emmit's hair is definitely longer," He continued.

Betty shrugged, pushing thick tresses back from Emmit's forehead as he slept, "I guess I don't see it as much, cause' I've seen them every day?"

The young parents stood silently, awed and admiring, their attention shifting from bed to bed. 

Jughead bent over Hunter's new 'big boy' bed again, "He's even stretching out this onesie," He mumbled in awe, as he smoothed his fingers over the tight fabric covering his boy's feet. 

Hunter stirred softly, kicking out the same leg and causing Jughead to freeze. With eyes wide he pulled back, knowing there was a very delicate line between a sleeping Hunter and a painfully awake Hunter. He stood at full hight now as he gazed at his sleeping son below, marvelling at how full his heart felt. 

He would be lying if he said that he wasn't still terrified on the daily that he'd screw them up somehow. However Betty always silently (and sometimes not so silently) reassured him. He knew she felt it too but she also reiterated that every parent felt unsure from time to time and that the looming feeling of fucking it all up might never go away. All they could do was their best, and that was far more than either of them had grown up with, so naturally, if they turned out ok, their boys would be just fine too.

"Well, they do grow fast at this age," Betty commented with a soft laugh now, as she came up behind Jughead. 

She wrapped her arms around his waist, snaking her limbs up to settle across his chest, her palms splayed on his pecks. With her whole body pressed against the length of his back now, he sighed appreciatively, his own arms wrapping around hers and holding her tightly to him.

"I missed you so fucking much," He whispered.

"I missed you too," Betty said, lips and cheek pressed into the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

"6 weeks is way too long,"

She nodded against him, "How did the meeting go?" 

"Good. Really good. But, let's talk later. I'm desperate for food and a shower." Jughead said quietly as he turned to her.

Betty nodded, "I thought so, I have some leftovers in the oven. Let me show you our bathroom," She finished with a smile. 

Her hand slid naturally into his as they walked across the landing towards the opposite wing of the house. Betty opened the double oak doors and Jughead's jaw just dropped. 

He stepped into their room behind Betty and she turned her megawatt, just as awed smile to him while he scanned the room. The pictures Polly had taken did the home absolutely zero justice, and neither did the video tour that Betty took him on when she arrived. 

Delicate, floral, mossy green wallpaper stretched up to the crown moulding, the hight perfectly accentuated by large windows and a slightly vaulted ceiling. Their king size four post bed sat against one wall, flanked with 2 nightstands, each set with a lamp and narrow stained glass window nestled in behind. A grand bay window with soft plush seating was tucked in across from the bedroom's entry, and a few built-in shelves sank into the walls, which already housed some of their more collectable, personal or treasured books, pictures and keepsakes. The fireplace which was grated off and currently roaring anchored the room with 2 high back Victorian shaped reading chairs facing it. The entrances to both their walk-in closest and bathroom sat opposite their over-sized bed, separated by their very unnecessary dressing area in between each doorway.

A lot of the furnishings came with the house, negotiated into the asking price, which was a blessing in many ways. The crap he had bestowed JB with from their loft was a mismatched and hodgepodge array of thrift store finds and Ikea furniture, the likes of which would have looked dwarfed and pint-sized against the grandeur of their new digs.

"Holy shit, Betts. This is like...fit for royalty,"

"I know." Betty gushed quietly, "-Lucky for us, the upstairs doesn't need much in the way of repairs, just a little bit of cosmetic updating,"

Jughead nodded and took it all in. Though the extravagance wasn't quite their style the rich history dulled the glitz and seeing their things placed lovingly around, the smell of their laundry detergent and her perfume lingering and mixing with the scent of wood fire made him feel more at ease than not.

"-Bathroom is on the left, your clothes are all on the left side of our closet too."

Jughead watched as she pointed out her instructions, his mind slipping quickly into perversion and drifting completely elsewhere now.

"Join me?" He insisted as he peeled off his shirt.

He saw her gaze drop to the newly exposed skin, her bottom lip disappearing between her teeth. He smirked, smugly, he knew. But he couldn't help it and now his hands at his waistline made slow work of an otherwise easy job, as she continued to ogle him.

Dragging her sight line back up his body to lock onto his eyes, she answered: "Mmm, you know I'd love to, but I literally have your dinner in the oven at the moment,"

"Fine." He huffed with a mock pout, ridding himself of his jeans, "- Raincheck." He pointed back quickly.

"Obviously," She winked.

Jughead watched Betty leave the room before he made his way into their closet. He grabbed the small amount of clean clothing he needed, fascinated with how little space both their small wardrobes of threads occupied. He then padded into the expansive bathroom marvelling again at the stately space. 

He was used to living in tight spaces; his family's trailer, his treehouse, the projection room at The Twilight, that god awful janitor's closet, sharing space with Archie, then sharing a tent with Betty. Their loft was really the first large space he'd ever lived in, and even it was a one-room deal. So all this extra room would take some serious getting used to.

It looked as though the previous owners had put some major work into the master bathroom years ago now. Yet still, beautiful blue-gray marble covered the floors and double vanity countertop. Dated but sleek light fixtures hung above both sink wells along with a modest (as much as you could call it) chandelier over the deep claw foot bathtub, because, of course, there was a claw foot tub. The tub was a luxury they both had not enjoyed since living in Riverdale as kids since their loft only had an albeit spacious shower. With windows surrounding the pristine space, he was sure they offered a sweeping view of the land surrounding them, though now they laid in pitch black stillness. A large marble tiled shower was tucked into one corner, where he found a newish shower head and was surprised that it wasn't ultra modern, or voice-activated, or some other space age shit, like the toilet looked to be. But the water pressure was outstanding, and the hot water tank bountiful, so he washed away the worry and grime of travel gladly. 

~~~

Once clean and dried he pulled fresh boxers on, stole some of Betty's moisturizer for his face and hands and then pulled a comb through his damp hair.

When he shuffled back into their bedroom, so road worn that his feet barely lifted off the soft hardwood floors, Betty was waiting for him, perched on her side of the bed, scrolling through her iPad. She looked up and noticed his lethargic steps, then gave him a small sympathetic smile and silently patted the space next to her. 

With a sombre nod, he slipped under the covers and sheets while Betty moved to the small table in front of the fire. There she picked up a serving tray and brought it over to him, nestling it on his lap. She had a personal size shepherds pie, a tossed salad, a couple buns and some kind of fruit-crumble dessert spread out for him, along with water and a glass of wine each.

With his back propped against the headboard he silently devoured the food provided, showering her in quiet praise as he polished off every single last crumb.

Betty took the tray from him when he was through and set it back on their small coffee table near the fireplace. She threw a few more logs on the fire all while lightly scolding him for trying to get up to help her. He relented easily though, loving the horizontal position he'd naturally slipped into.

"Lay back further, dear," Betty instructed, moving onto the bed and laying on her side next to him. She tucked an arm under her head and reached up to push his drying hair back as he fully rested his head on their pillows, "-Tell me about your meeting," She said once he was settled in.

Jughead's hand fell to her thigh, his other resting against his chest as he breathed a long sigh. His eyelids felt like lead so they laid shut as Betty smoothly pushed her hand through his hair, over and over again.

"They want it." He offered up peacefully.

Her voice was still hushed but excited, "Yea?!"

"Nothing concrete yet, but they are very interested,"

"That's great!"

"It sounds like they want it and everything else we come up with," Jughead said simply.

"Serious?"

"Yea."

"All of it?"

"Every word. And from what I can tell they want to stay as true to the novel universe as possible. Apparently, the fan following is huge. It's cult and underground still, so I'm told, but huge none the less."

"Jug, that's amazing!"

"It is." He replied looking down to her beautifully supportive verdant eyes, "-It's also a lot of pressure. We only have a few more storylines pencilled out," He confessed.

"Sure, but you're constantly having inspiration for more stories. And having a deadline has always focused you. I think you'll end up using this pressure to your advantage."

He smiled at her optimism, "I hope so,"

"I know so. You'll be fine. You have notebooks on notebooks filled with ideas," She offered, her eyes locked on his, a hand falling to his cheek caressing it lovingly as she spoke again, "-This is amazing, my love. I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, honey." He mumbled, his head tilting into the press of her hand.

"Just amazing," She mused, returning her fingers to thread through his hair again.

With another slow nod Jughead felt the warm lull of sleep like rocks in his bones, and thankfully the insomnia that he struggled with in his youth and young adult life was near non-existent now. 

When Hunter was born neither of them slept, like at all. Everyone was up at all hours of the day and night while they tried to figure out their lives as new parents and find a sleeping routine that worked for everyone. It felt like they were always awake, until finally, randomly (mercifully) the cycle broke. They all fell into a new routine, and thus developed a plan that they carried over even to this day: if the boys are sleeping, they should be sleeping too. Or at least resting. They used this knowledge when Emmit was born, tag teaming responsibilities and falling into that rhythm rather quickly. Now that the boys were older, the rule applied a bit less, but nap time was still a great opportunity for someone else to squeeze in a nap too. And it was usually Betty who took advantage.

Moreover, tonight, Jughead was completely sated, comfortable, warm, full and fucking exhausted. So when he felt himself begin to slip between awake and unconscious his instinct was to give in. He groaned though, mustering up a scrap of energy to speak once more.

"Betts, I...I'm falling asleep," He mumbled half-heartedly as she continued to push and pull her fingers through his drying hair.

"I know, dear."

"But I'm-I've missed...you...I've-this..." Jughead stuttered and trailed off, his hand squeezing her upper thigh tightly. He pulled her closer to his lap, causing her to move sensually against the length of his body. 

The heat behind her movement was unintentional on her part, sure, but she'd gone without him for just as long as he had gone without her, the only difference in desire was that he had driven upwards of 4,000 miles over the past 5 days, whereas she had not. 

"I know, Jug. Just let it happen. Sleep now and we'll make up for lost time tomorrow."

"P-promise?" He asked, his voice so raspy it barely registered as a whisper.

Betty chuckled softly to herself, "Promise."

Jughead nodded and was fast asleep within moments. 

~~~

He only woke up once, halfway through his slumber, the dark country silence pouring into their room, with Betty still situated against his chest, her leg still hooked up across his lap. Barely conscious he pulled her body closer and slipped back into a deep dreamless sleep once more.

~~~

The next morning, or rather, afternoon, Jughead woke up surprisingly alone. The typical New York autumn gray spilled into the space, a chill clinging to the air as the fire had died out to nearly ash. 

With a yawn, he stretched out his tired limbs and brushed a scrap of paper laid gently atop Betty's pillow.

~ Took the boys to my mom's for the night. Coffee is ready, just hit start. Cable guy will be here around 2 pm, but I should be home before then. xox, B. ~

He scowled to himself, half mad that she'd taken the boys before he got a chance to see them awake, half excited at the prospect of having real alone time with Betty that night. He knew she was eager to have some time away from the kids, being as she had essentially been a solo parent for the past 6 weeks. The Coopers helped. A lot. Kevin too, on the weekends, or when he wasn't busy substitute teaching. But Jughead knew that Betty was eager to be alone with only him. He was just as eager, scolding himself for not taking advantage of their private moment right there on their front steps the night before. 

His grimace disappeared, replaced now with a boyish smile that, he was sure, would have given away his thoughts, had he not been alone.

~~~

It was just after 1 pm when Jughead finally wandered into the kitchen, surprised at how much progress had been made to their new home already. Andrews' construction was their main source of manual labour, and cleanly Betty and her crew had been working diligently. Lower cabinets, quartz countertops, subway tile backsplash and rich hardwood floors were already installed, along with new paint, baseboards and trim completed. Reclaimed light fixtures were polished, rewired and reinstalled, and exposed shelves were hung with new appliances being delivered within the week.

He found and turned on the coffee machine before moving to the large wood stove in the corner of the kitchen to feed it. Because the house was so expansive they didn't really want to rely on the furnace alone to warm the place, it would simply be running on high all the time if they did. So, early on, they decided to use wood heat as much as possible and had safety gates installed around the child accessible fireplaces. They took well advantage of the already stocked woodpile off the garage, and he was keen on getting his hands on an axe to hack away at the rest of logs.

~~~

Just as Jughead started on his second cup of coffee, and while his thoughts were occupied on the vast expanse of land that sprawled out behind their home the trill of an old rotary telephone broke his trance. Slightly thrown off by the sound he looked for the source, finding the bright red phone tucked into an old-school phone nook inside their kitchen wall. 

"Hello?" Jughead answered.

"RockLand County cable." The male voice replied.

"Oh, Hi,"

A long silence trailed on the other end of the line, before: "Um, do I have the right address?"

"Maybe. Who are you looking for?"

"Jones?"

"Yup, that's us,"

Silence held the line again before the workman spoke once more, his voice half questioning, half irritated: "I just need someone to let me in the gate?"

"Oh shit, sorry. Yea. Just hold on a sec."

Jughead looked to the array of plugs and switches next to the phone and found the toggle that said 'manor gate'.

"-That should do it," He then said into the receiver.

"Perfect. See you soon."

Jughead hung up, puzzled, feeling like somehow, he knew the voice on the other end. But he went back to his coffee, slouching into the couch, bare feet propped up on the coffee table, waiting for the knock at their front door.

Soon after the tradesman used their rod iron door knocker, the thudding echoing easily against the thick oak, and reverberating through the open concept space. Jughead rose with a sigh and answered the door, taking his coffee mug along for the journey. 

He stopped short as he swung the large door open, "Trev?"

"Jughead? Uh, Hi..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> January is 'fanfic comment writing' month, so if there ever was an ideal time to comment...even if for the first time...now would be that time ;)
> 
> Thank you for reading! xox


	3. Chapter 3

Jughead shook his surprise best he could, "Hey. Long time no see," He replied extending his hand, whereupon Trev met him with a firm shake.

"No kidding. How are you?"

"Good, man. You?" 

"Yea, me too."

"Awesome." Jughead nodded for Trev to come in, to which the shorter man wiped his work boots off repeatedly and entered.

"How long have you been back?" He asked.

"Me? I just got in last night actually. Betty's been here about a month,"

Trev nodded, the small look of annoyance flashing across his face, which Jughead tried his best to ignore, "How is she doing?" He then asked.

"Great, really great. Busy but good."

"Kids?" Trev asked next, likely noting the fit of toys everywhere.

"Yea, 2 boys."

"Nice, I have a son too,"

"Congratulations,"

"Thanks, you too."

"Thanks."

"How long have you and Betty been married?"

"Still working on that, our first son kinda foiled our plans," Jughead said lightly.

Trev looked to his clipboard, reading over the work order, "I saw Betty briefly last week at Pop's, and seeing Jones here...I guess I thought she was just visiting. I should have put two and two together." He finished, tapping his pen to his worksheet.

"No harm done, Jones is a pretty common name."

"We all thought you guys left for good,"

Jughead huffed a short laugh, "We didn't plan on moving back, but this house kind of swayed our opinion."

Trev nodded, "You guys weren't at our high school reunion either."

"Yea. Betty was busy raising tiny humans." Jughead said modestly. 

The truth was neither of them wanted to make the journey out. Not for that. Not for something as artificial as a high school reunion. Anyone worthwhile from high school was still part of their lives today, so why rub shoulders and force small talk with the rest for an entire night? But, alas, that was all best left unsaid.

Trev nodded again looking around the house a bit while they stood in the foyer, "Ethel is going to be so surprised,"

"Do you see her often?"

The other man laughed, "I should hope so, I married her."

"Oh, wow. That's great," Jughead replied honestly, "-I had no idea."

"We've only been married a year," Trev shrugged, blatantly looking around yet again, "-So, where am I setting up?"

"Just in the family room," Jughead said, thrusting a thumb towards their scattered with toys and life living room.

"You get 5 boxes with this TV package,"

"We don't need 5 TVs."

"People usually put an outlet in the kitchen, living room, rec room or office, guest room and master bedroom."

"Nah, just the family room is fine."

"You're sure? In a house this big?"

"Yea, we don't watch a lot of cable TV. It just came with the bundle."

"You don't want cable in your master bedroom?"

"Oh, god. No." Jughead laughed. "-If the Mrs. changes her mind, we'll call you back, "

Betty's stance on cable tv, with commercials and whatnot, was that it had no place in the bedroom. Bingeing, streaming or watching movies in bed was one thing, but her romantic and nostalgic nature urged her to draw the time somewhere, wanting to keep some things sacred. This he knew without a doubt. They'd never had cable TV, and Jughead didn't really care either way.

Trev nodded and gave a tight smile, "Where would you like the strongest wireless connection then?"

"In the library, I think," Jughead replied, nodding in the direction of the open door to their study.

"No problem, I'll get started then."

"Sounds great, let me know if you need anything."

Jughead ventured back into the kitchen, wondering what the social protocol was here. He'd known Trev most of his young life, even shared classes with him, most of his AP classes were with him, in fact. Now he was working for him, or, at least working in and on his house for him. Did he offer him a drink? Was he expected to keep up this mindless small talk? Or did he just let the poor fellow work in peace? He decided on the latter, sitting in the bay window of their kitchen's breakfast nook, settling into his Riverdale Register, cinnamon toast cereal and coffee.

~~~

About an hour or so later Trev slipped into the kitchen, wiping his dusty hands on his coveralls before he filled out his required paperwork.

"Well, that ought to do it," He said, as he held his clipboard out.

"Thanks for setting us up," Jughead replied, taking the writing board and scanning over the information.

"You're welcome. The past owners already had the connections wired. I just set you guys up with new wiring, equipment and software."

While Jughead signed his recipe he asked, "How long have you been doing this?" 

"Since I graduated university. Took over for my dad, actually. Bought his house too." Trev replied absently, subtly looking around the large and clearly updated kitchen, "-Someone told me you wrote a book?"

"Graphic novel, yea. A series, actually,"

"Awesome. Are they any good?"

Jughead chuckled, "Yea. They're good."

"Very cool. I'll have to check them out sometime."

"I'll give you a copy."

"That'd be great."

Jughead felt the need to continue this small town chatter, because, if for no other reason, the shorter man was lingering. So, though he knew the answer, he asked, "People still hang out at Pop's, yea?" 

"All the time. The Whyte Wyrm too, since your dad bought it."

He nodded, refraining from gloating that it was, in fact, his money that helped pay for the dumpy dive and its updates. Instead, he handed Trev's clipboard back and started to lead them towards the front door.

"I'm sure we'll see each other around. But I'll leave a copy of my books with Pop if I don't see you before then."

"Thanks, say 'Hi' to Betty for me."

"Sure thing. You'll do the same with Ethel?"

"Will do."

~~~

After ushering Trev out, Jug took a minute to digest what just happened. He knew that moving back would stir up some townie gossip, but he didn't think that blasts from their pasts would come crashing into their life so swiftly. He wondered what else the town of Riverdale was privy to, and what other rumours or stories had been traded or conjured up in their absence.

~~~

Jughead spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the house, acclimatizing himself with his new surroundings. He opened all the cupboards, closets and chests, seeing where Betty had stashed their life. He found everything in an exact order he'd grown accustomed to while living with the well organized and methodical blonde. 

He saved the best room for last; the library. He had peeked in there on his way down that morning but had yet to really explore it. He felt a tinge of excitement jolt through him as he pushed through the nearly concealed door behind the staircase. This room was the 'ace in the hole' of this house for the both of them. It was like something straight out of their childhood fantasies, an expansive room filled to the rafters with books, ledgers, pamphlets and maps, the entrance of which cleverly cloaked into the curve of a hallway wall. 

Stepping inside the space swirled with the smell of paper and leather, dust and wood. The stained glass case-opening windows spilled blue-green light into the room, catching dust particles and highlighting the tall ceilings with bookshelves to match. Taking in the rest of the room he saw their own modern record player set up next to a relic phonograph version, and a world globe so gigantic that he was sure it was a liquor cabinet. The plants that had made the parlous journey across the country now sat on sills and shelves, flourishing in their new sunspots. White sheets covered the left behind pieces of furniture like ghosts and stacks of old newspapers and photo albums littered the desk with piles of thickly framed paintings leaning against nearby walls. He sighed deeply, smiling to himself as he found their extensive combined collections of books still sitting in their boxes, awaiting his care. He hadn't asked Betty to save this task for him, he assumed she would have unpacked everything, as she already had and as was her way. Though some of her own collections, plaques, certificates, and diplomas already adorn the walls and shelves, awaiting his additions. Eager to dig in he checked the time. Betty would likely be home soon, and he didn't want to find himself buried in their library, consumed and preoccupied when he finally got to spend quality time with her. So he left the library alone, vowing to return tomorrow.

~~~

The house felt eerily quiet that foggy late afternoon, and especially so when he stuffed his bare feet into his boots and took to the outside grounds. 

After unloading the truck he walked the immediate property perimeter and moseyed through the expansive gardens, which were dying back now that the frost had taken to the earth. He then snooped through each outbuilding; the garage and shop, the half-finished guest house, the empty chicken coop and massive glass greenhouse before walking along SweetWater creek and up to the pond. He hung out there for a few beats, inhaling the crisp fall country air with a sigh while listening to rustling leaves, the babble of the running creek and the occasional procrastinating songbird. He could imagine the boys as they grew running around here like absolute maniacs, playing in the tall grass, swimming in the pond, splashing in the creek and swinging on the tire swing. He made a mental note to see if this tree house was still standing in SweetWater forest, and if it was, maybe he could dismantle it and bring it out here. Otherwise, once the boys were older, he'd ask their Uncle Archie to help him build them a new one.

With lofty ambitions swimming around in his head he heard someone coming up their long driveway. The noise of the vehicle alerted him, however, the machine was still far out of view. All the same, he made his way back to the main house, finding Betty just pulling their vehicle up to the back door entrance.

He met her at the car door, opening it for her with a smile, "Hello, Lover."

"Hi," She chirped brightly, sliding out of the car and into his arms for a hug.

He squeezed her tightly, nuzzling into the top of her head, "How are you?"

"Good, you?"

"Also good,"

"Sorry, I'm late. I picked up some groceries, ran a few other errands, saw some people. We are the talk of the town right now," She said, with a small smile up to him.

"Well guess who our cable guy was,"

"Trev?"

Jughead laughed, "How'd you know?"

"Ethel, she works at the bank,"

"God. Small towns, hey?"

"You're a celebrity in this small town,"

"I highly doubt anyone has even read my books," Jughead replied, dramatically snuggling into their embrace further, "-Except maybe Dilton. Or Dave."

"No matter, you've made a name for yourself out there in the big bad word. And guess who your biggest champion has been?"

"Archie?"

"Your dad! He's been telling everyone who'll listen what a hotshot his one and only son has become."

"Stop..." Jughead mumbled, while he let her go. 

He watched as she moved to grab what she needed from within their car, feeling that immediate wave of defiance that went along with receiving compliments. He knew the books were good and he was proud of what he and the guys were able to accomplish with the novels. He defiantly wanted the recognition, but accepting compliments was never something he had been very good at. He found it hard to swallow people's word for truth, always feeling like there was an ulterior motive or an undercurrent to their kind words. However, this was not the case when it came to Betty. He knew her words and praise were dripping with honestly and came from her good as gold heart, but those notions didn't make it any easier to take compliments for solid truth. But Betty was able to read him like an open book. A book apparently full of pictures, and diagrams, and lists, and graphs, leaving her able to reassure him before he even had a chance to backpedal, or say something snippy and sarcastic.

"I'm serious, Jug." She continued on, "-Kev told me before we got here, Polly confirmed it and Pop solidified it. FP even has copies for sale out of his trunk,"

Jughead rolled his eyes in reply, moving to their own trunk to grab the box filled with their food provision for the next week. Betty had their grocery runs down to a science, a well-worked rotation of always keeping the cupboards stocked. The Jones boys ate, a lot, and often. She had learned early on that keeping snacks on hand at all times was like a not so super secret parlour trick to keeping all 3 boys happy. 

Motherhood had been an easy role for her to fall into. Her nurturing spirit and organized nature made their home life as stress-free as humanly possible. Fatherhood fit him well too, but his help came from other avenues. He did some cooking, most of the driving and laundry, was always the first on the floor when one of the boys woke in the night, and when they were all home together, he kept the kids occupied for hours, with minimal effort to his credit, while she worked, took a break, or got other chores done. Theirs was an unspoken division of duties, one that catered to both their strengths. Neither felt as though they were carrying the burden because they were able to balance the weight equally.

Some people (Alice) chastised them for having their children in such short secession, but Betty's logic was sound. She often felt that the age difference between her and her siblings kept them apparat through school, and only since growing up did she feel truly connected to them as allies. And though Jughead and JB were always close, it was in more of guardian relationship. Being closer in age would have helped bond them, a hope they both shared for their kids.

Their first son, Hunter Forsythe Jones was born one late rainy January night, and his brother Emmit Pendleton Jones came wailing into the world in the early hours of a gloomy fall morning, much like this afternoon, 21 months later.

Her pregnancy with Hunter was no cake walk, and complications with her blood pressure had her bedridden for the last few months. She told him she was only willing to go through all that one more time, and if they wanted to have another kid it would have to be sooner rather than later. The second time around with Emmit, they knew a bit more of what to expect, took necessary precautions, but still, the whole process took its toll on her, both physically and also mentally. Half of him still selfishly wanted for them to try again, hopefully for a girl this time, but she was over the pain and misery that were both of her pregnancies. 

And so, her body, her mind; her rules. 

He would honestly never fully understand what she went through for their sons. Though he was there and he saw her struggles, he could sympathize...empathize. He could also honour her choice and love those 2 little boys like nothing else before. 

That he could do, that, he understood perfectly.

~~~

Once inside the house again Jughead began to unload the foodstuffs onto the counter, while Betty took her coat and shoes off in the backdoor mudroom.

"How's your mom?" He asked, though he wasn't all that interested. 

His and Alice's relationship had always been dicey, at best. Early on she accepted him, then later blamed him, and currently tolerated him. There had been some things over the years that had definitely ruffled his feathers, and he knew that he got under her skin, something he wasn't ashamed to admit he relished in. Sometimes they got along, sometimes she wasn't a cow, most times she was.

"Ugh, fine. I'm already so happy we live an hour away," She replied, helping by putting away the stock as he emptied the box.

"I'm sad I missed the boys this morning,"

Betty smiled softly, "I know, but did you forget what day it is?"

His movements stopped abruptly, his 5-day journey across the country had messed his circadian rhythm right up, but his stomach still flipped as he remembered, "Yea."

"Jug, it's our anniversary," She confirmed.

"Right. I always forget,"

"It's not hard to remember, it's the first weekend in November." 

Jughead tilted his head in question, "We started dating in September,"

"You know we've been celebrating another monumental moment," She said, an air of innuendo clinging to her sweet voice.

"Oh," He gulped and grinned, "-Yes. Of course."

"You remember now?" She asked with a teasing glint to her voice. She then stepped in close to hug him again. In one fluid motion her hands slipped up under his shirt and pulled him down to her lips.

"I might need to be reminded again," He confessed before kissing her soundly.

Moving back from their chaste but firm kiss she giggled, clearly looking over his lineaments, "Are you hungry?"

"I could always eat."

With that, they set to work on an early dinner. Betty organized a board of charcuterie, laying out different cheeses, meats, nuts, crackers, fruits, spreads and jellies. While she made quick work of that Jughead got a few phyllo style appetizers into the oven, and dished out their corresponding dips. As he waited for the timer to ding he poured them each some wine and put on some mellow background music.

Once everything was put together and spread out Betty hopped up onto the island countertop and propped her feet atop the bar stool next to Jughead. As they ate they talked about everything he had missed; her drive, the move, all the construction drama and subsequent drama of living with Alice for those first couple weeks back. She explained the thoughts behind her and Veronica's design choices, which parts were easy versus which ones made her hands clench and thanked him for all his input and support. She told him about taking the boys trick or treating with June and TJ, how Emmit's duck costume made him waddle more than he already did, and how Elm St. was still the best block in Riverdale for candy. She explained what was going on in certain photos or conversations she had sent him, correlating storylines and putting faces to names. They laughed and joked and he filled her in on his own cross-country journey too. He told her all about seeing Jelly and meeting her new flame, and about saying goodbye to Seattle, along with more in-depth details of his meeting with SpringValley Productions in LA.

"To us," Betty raised in a toast.

"To you." Jughead said with a smile, "-To us. Happy anniversary. We've come so far. Here's to so much more." He then replied tipping his glass to hers with a clink and a nod of cheers.

Their banter continued fluidly and naturally and before they knew it it was well past dark, their plates were empty, and they'd polished off a bottle and a half of red. With a satisfied sigh and stretch, Betty moved to clean up the residual mess while Jughead washed up their dishes. He was honestly astounded at the deep farmhouse sink, the size of which he was sure could have held a fully-grown HotDog. He chuckled fondly at the thought, knowing in his heart that HotDog would have loved their new home and their sons.

"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" He asked, as he rinsed suds from their dishware.

Betty shook her head, "I'm ready for bed,"

"Alright. I can finish up down here if you want,"

"Thank you," She replied sweetly, kissing his cheek on her way out of the kitchen, "-I'll lock up and meet you up there," 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more sleep until Riverdale is back! I can't wait...
> 
> Hopefully, this helped tide you over until Bughead's return tomorrow night!!
> 
> Don't forget to comment ;)


	4. Chapter 4

"Took you long enough," Betty scolded Jughead as he approached their upstairs wing of the house.

Coming into their bedroom and toeing off his socks, he replied absently, "I got distracted listening to the coyotes,"

He kicked the threads in the direction of the laundry hamper as he moved further into their space. He stopped in the midst of pulling off his beanie though, the change in the room very evident. 

Betty had a roaring fire going with a few candles lit and placed sporadically throughout the room. Their bedside lamps were also on, helping cast the whole room in a warm amber glow. He looked to her smiling face, finding her body draped in a silk robe, the fabric covering her from wrist to knee.

"-You don't look ready for sleep," He smirked, pushing his hand through his hair and moving to stand in front of her leaned back figure.

"I said I was ready for bed, not sleep." She replied in turn, grabbing 2 fist fulls of his classic gray 'S' t-shirt and pulling him down for a kiss.

"My mistake," Jughead mumbled before fusing their lips together. 

With lips locked he crowded in on her, his larger frame towering over her and pushing her up against the solid furniture as they kissed. His hands fell to her hip and side, firmly holding her captive with fingers splayed across her ribcage, their fever brewing as wine slick tongues stroked sensually.

Betty broke away first, smirking as he chased after her departure. She then gently shoved him back as she spoke, "Strip, down to your boxers." When he started to obey she pushed herself off the bedpost, "-On our bed, on your back," She ordered.

Jughead reached up and peeled his shirt over his head, undoing his belt and pants before the cotton threads even hit the floor. He stepped out of the denim fabric pooled at his feet and followed her instructions intently, by hopping onto the bed, and propping himself comfortably against their array of pillows.

From the start he already felt dazed, his mind eddying and bewildered, the anticipation so fucking high and she had yet to do a god damned thing to him. She just carefully watched him undress while walking around to the foot of the bed, a look in her eye that mirrored one of a predator circling in on her prey. She looked like the epitome of focus; cloaked and hunting. 

He felt the mattress dip under her weight then watched her start at his feet and crawl up his body. She gracefully positioning herself with eyes cast down, her deep pools hooded and raking over his exposed skin.

Betty came up and straddled his lap, the silk of her robe shifting across her thighs, flashing a swatch of dark fabric that still lay cloaked beneath. She leaned back and sank heavily onto his lap with a sensual roll of her hips, biting her lip as she moved against his length. With a groan he lifted up to her in response, hands skimming up her thighs, fingers digging into the thick flesh of her hips. She knew she had him hard before, but now, now she had him rock fucking solid.

She let out another soft moan as she rocked back and forth on him and after a few moments of divine torture, she came forward, bending down to place a filthy kiss to his parted lips. He welcomed her fully, skin thrumming as their tongues touched tenderly, smoothly coiling together with a build up and heady need. As they pulled apart she purposefully rolled against him, wretching a low groan from his chest. As she ground down on him his grip tightened; a lacklustre attempt to keep her still, or encourage her, or help guide her, or something. He opened his mouth to speak but the sway of her hips muted him, and before he could pull together a sentence a surge of excitement ran through his entire body causing a shutter.

"What's wrong, Juggie?" She asked playfully, her palms solid on his chest, fingers digging into his skin with every sensual pulse of her hips.

Obviously, nothing was 'wrong', she could feel that without a doubt. But, heaven help her if she didn't love to torture the poor creature a bit, hear him whine and beg and plead for her. To relish in how easily she was able to push him just to the brink, regardless of what that edge was.

"Nothing is...nothing's wrong...I'm just...a bit out of practice...6 weeks is...it's too long" Jughead stuttered, his breath caught up in his lungs when she pushed hard against him again, "-Jesus Christ, Betts...you're gonna make me cum," 

It wasn't far from the truth, he already felt himself starting to slip, the slick slope of desire welcoming him, wanting him. But, somehow, he held off, trying to hold onto a thread of his self-control all while feeling like he might unravel at any moments notice.

Betty tisked her tongue at him, "Juggie...In your underwear? So soon?" Her fingers ran down his torso to help guide his hands up to her chest. He moved with her guidance and cupped both breasts gladly, "-Are you going to cum in your boxers like some kind of pent up, deprived, horny teenager? Hmm? Soil yourself from nothing more than me grinding on you?" She held his wrists tight, his strong hands and nibble fingers fondling her. He pushed at her concentration, causing her head to fall slack in pleasure, and yet her relentless hips continued their bewitching canter, "-Will it be that easy?" She cooed.

Jughead tipped his head back, his eyes rolling and falling shut, "God. It might be," He moaned his response, still groping at her gently.

Betty chuckled, coming back to the vision laid out under her and pouted at him playfully, "You're wound up so tight,"

He did look overwrought already, sweat on his brow, eyes lids hooded, chest heaving, lips begging to be kissed again.

"I am," He panted at her through her increased speed.

Betty kept an unyielding pace, still slow, purposeful and practiced but sharper now, "Didn't you take care of yourself while we were apart?"

"Not really," Jughead replied. His thumbs brushed against her pearled nipples through layers of buttery fabric before pinching down, causing her to bear down with a moan and a roll against his lap, "-Only a few times..." He mumbled through the sensation.

"My poor Juggie," 

He growled, the mild chastising tone in her voice going straight to his already solid dick, "Did...did you?" He implored.

She smirked down at him, "Of course. That handheld shower head in our bathtub is hard to ignore,"

His body reacted to this confession before his mind had a minute to compute the words, his hips snapping up to meet her. Her raspy moan shot through him like a current, his hands grabbed her by the hips again before dragging her forcefully against his cock as he spoke, "Holy fuck, Betty..." 

"Mmm, I thought about you in there with me. Warm and wet and naked and hard behind me, working the nozzle, making me cum..." She trailed off, too absorbed in her own gyrations against him to even continue speaking.

Jughead had fully given into her by this point, at peace with the fact that she wanted him to come undone under her prowess. All the same, he couldn't take his eyes off of her. Her glorious fame was still mostly covered with the dark blue fabric of her robe, but the concealed flesh only served to drive him more out of his mind. He wondered what she had planned for him under that robe, watching as her lips parted and curved into a sly smirk. She kept her hips moving, exposing small previews of soft creamy skin flushed rose with arousal.

But, somehow, he managed to reply with: "That's quite the image,"

"I'll show you sometime," She promised quickly, grinning wide now.

He groaned, feeling that swirling spike of desire coiling tightly in his belly, threatening, encouraging, demanding, "You're amazing." He breathed.

With a more gracious smile and still rolling hips she bent in to kiss him again, hands splayed on either side of his body, her perfumed hair like a golden curtain around them. 

"You haven't even opened your anniversary gift yet," Betty teased, flipping her hair aside and kissing across his jaw, then down his throat. 

She kissed down his chest then sat heavy on his cock once again. Picking up right where they left off she cradled him against her damp heat, swaying deliciously, until the fabric friction became nearly unbearable, for everyone involved.

Jughead swallowed thickly, bringing his hands up to the sash tried around her slim waist. His fingers fumbled at the starting gate a moment, as most of his congestive sense surged south. When he finally got the knot untied he practically threw the fabric open, impatient and riled up, his logical mind swimming in lust. In hindsight, he wished he took his time in unwrapping her, but the end result and reaction would have been the very same.

His mouth filled as he appraised her, scantily clad in a matching set of sheer burgundy, trimmed with what looked like delicate lace. He gulped, because to his awed delight both garments looked to be more stitches and seams than actual fabric and as he smoothed his fingertips over the moist threads covering her sex he groaned his approval. She was still every bit pliant, supple and firm, all curves and muscle, completely soft and scarred. She was perfect and flawed and free and his. She had always been his forever, his first, and his only. She could be wearing anything and the reaction would have been the same. But now, as her dark green eyes watched him he felt strangely vindicated, knowing this was exactly the gaping reaction she wanted.

"Beautiful," He praised, hands trailing up the smooth expanse of her belly and up to her tits again.

She studied him as he admired her, her own hands landing on top of his, guiding, encouraging and following his mapping of her curves. 

Betty continued her alluring movement atop his manhood as she spoke, "Well, I thought what better way to show you how proud I am of you and how much I missed you than with a little bit of nudity. Or very close to it," She explained, her voice soft and gravely. 

Jughead smirked, squeezing her breasts gently, "Such a clever little vixen,"

She threw a knowing nod his way but backed off of him a bit. His hands fell to his sides as she hooked her thumbs into the elastic band of his boxers on her way down his body, actively freeing him. Jughead barely registered her tossing his threads away, his eyes locked on her determined gaze.

Sometimes, not for a long time now, maybe even since the kids were born, they'd play an unspoken game of who would crack first. They'd push and push each other to see who would cave and simply take the other person down. He wasn't very good at the game, failing to control his baser urges most of the time. But sometimes, like tonight, his resolve seemed to be in ample supply. In the 4 years since becoming parents and living in such close quarters with their kids, their sex life had taken on a quicker and quieter pace. It wasn't as though sensuality lost, but alone time was sparse and other factors applied now. So tonight he wanted to watch her little plan come together to her very own liking. No matter how much he was itching to devour her, he would play the willing captive. Tonight he wanted a show and, clearly, she wanted one too. 

"You'd think by now my dirty little mind wouldn't surprise you," She muttered, as her eyes raked up his completely naked body.

Jughead squirmed under the weight of her stare, hands clutching at the sheets in anticipation, "Oh, doll. I am well aware. And I think you know that." He replied smoothly.

Betty chuckled and trailed her fingers up the inside of his thighs, pausing at the juncture of his hips, watching the quick rise and fall of his chest. His lifted to her, so turned on that he felt borderline nauseated and kinda insane. But, mercifully, she moved fluidly, bent in and slid her flattened tongue up from the base of his cock to his tip in one continuous and wet stroke. She watched his eyes roll back as she swirled her tongue around his head before repeating the lapping process again and again.

Jughead groaned and unsteadily propped himself up on his elbows to watch her lave at him, "Fuck, that feels good..." 

She smirked wickedly and licked around his sensitive tip a few more times before taking him in fully, leaving him gasping for air.

A deep moan rumbled in his throat as he brought a shaky hand up to push her hair back and away from his view. She then wrapped her fingers around his length, matching her mouth and hand in motion now and falling into a quick pace. He felt himself start to lose it completely, his composure slipping through his grips as she prolonged her enthusiastic assault. But just as he managed to steel himself, Betty hummed against him, surely knowing the telltale signs of his impending release. 

"God damn, B-Betts...don't stop" He whined, unapologetic and desperate now, totally lost within her slick mouth. 

However, she was clearly far from finished with her teasing, her desire to hear him beg far too pressing to ignore. So, devilishly, she slowly her tempo and released him with a pop, her impish grin turned up to him.

Jughead let out a long frustrated groan, allowing his body to crash back from outer space and his head to fall back against his pillow. 

"Com'mon, Betts." He protested, restless and writhing.

His voice wasn't angry but very obviously wavering and she could tell that he was right on the very cusp of no return. Leaving him hanging like that was uncharacteristically cruel, but her eyes silently promised she'd make it worth his wait.

"We do have the whole house to ourselves. And we have all night."

Panting, he protested weakly, "Baby..." 

"What's the rush?"

"6 weeks!" Is all he said, his palms raking over his face, chest heaving. 

Maybe he wasn't such a willing captive after all.

"You've been so good so far." She purred, fingers teasing down the hard lines of his stomach, tracing the ink on this side, dipping into the divots of his hips again before moving down the insides of his thighs once more. "-So very patient."

Jughead squirmed, lifting to her, chasing after her touch, "God. Please, Betty..." 

His mumble wasn't a question, it wasn't even a demand. It was a plea, a whiney, pent up, distraught plea. The words and timbre of which were exactly what she wanted, and if there had been more blood in his brain he might have realized that fine detail sooner.

Betty smiled down at him, dragging soft fingertips up his shaft, "We'll get there, Forsythe."

She then crawled back up his body, her hands propped on either side of his head, kissing him before he could protest any further. Jughead moaned against her lips, the coiling of their tongues sloppy and hungry, his hands gripping at her hips and pushing her onto his lap again. He felt her smirk against his lips as she cradled him with her warmth once more. He then smoothly slipped his hands under the waistline of her tiny panties, curling his fingers around the elastic and giving a swift yank. The sharp pull was met with an equally sharp gasp from her, effectively breaking their kiss.

"These are nice, but you should take them off. Before I rip them off."

A visual shutter ran through her as she pulled away. Backing off his lap she slid out of her underwear, watching his hooded stare drink her in as she did so. She could have made a show of it, could have drawn it out a lot more, really elongated her movements, but the longer she pushed him the weaker her own self-control became. So she decided to ease both their suffering, slightly, with a swift disrobing.

She came up to bracket his hips again, waiting to take her seat, knowing full well that wasn't going to be his only request. She knew him, to a tee, sometimes to a fault. So she waited because she knew what he was going to ask of her next.

"Take this off too." He suggested sternly, slipping both bra straps off of her shoulders. 

Instead of obeying she took his right hand in hers and brought it to the fabric between her breasts, "Pinch." Betty explained softly.

As soon as the command was uttered, his action was taken. Minimal pressure released clasp of her binds, spilling soft creamy skin into his awaiting hands. Betty shimmied out of the garment and leaned into his touch, moaning as he caressed her. He watched himself pinch and roll each firm dusty nipple before his hands slid down her body again, settling on the flare of her hips, his thumbs brushing through the dewy hairs at the apex of her thighs. She let out a whiney moan as he dipped in and circled her clit before she finally allowed her full weight to fall onto his lap again. The dizzying contact of hot, slick, skin retched a low moan from each as she rolled forward deliberately.

Jughead set her pace, moving to hold her hips again and guide her against his lap with a clear but smooth determination, "Are you going to tease me to within an inch of my life, Elizabeth?" 

She sighed, head tipped back, mind hazy yet body focused, wading through the buzzing pleasure that was coursing through her veins now. With every movement, she fell further, every slide of his dick against her clit, every moan from his lips, every brush of his hands, pulling her under even deeper.

In a fleeting moment, she registered that he'd asked her something so she bent in and kissed his cheek before dragging her lips down his neck to answer, "I would never,"

He huffed out an unconvinced laugh as she licked and sucked at his pulse line. Then, with a soft sway of her hips, a graceful tilt of her body and a press of her fingers, she guided him into nirvana.

Betty gasped a moan as she took him, fully, "-You feel so fucking good,"

The colourful praise rippled through him but the pleasure had already taken over. Jughead groaned loudly as she began to move, the push and drag of himself within her soft folds nearly unravelling him in an instant. His blood felt like it was already boiling over, his head spinning. All he could do was hold on tight and let her fuck his brains out. Which is exactly what she did, with a flawless balance of giving and unyielding pressure he'd grown to expect from the sinfully beautiful being above him.

"-You've been so good. So patient." She reassured breathlessly, hands sturdy on his chest now as she rode him, "-And good things...god...they should be praised."

He nodded, mindless, captivated and truly captive. His fingers dug into her hips, pushing and pulling her in perfect cadence. He still couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off her, watching the long slope of her elegant neck, the soft curve and bounce of her tits as she took him, the muscles, tendons and ligaments of her arms and legs working hard to keep herself balanced, steady and upright. In one swift thought and movement, he sat up, gathering her up in his arms. The change in angle washed over her, a soft strangled moan blooming from her chest as they adjusted.

"Don't you dare hold back," He growled against the shell of her ear, reeling when she moaned louder in reply. "-That's it. Let me hear you."

Upright now he kept her back steady, his other hand gripping into her ass cheek, urging her movements. He held as much skin pressed to her as possible, loving the sensual sway of her hips in these close quarters, the way her breath and moans poured into his ear with this altered position.

In truth, she simply had no words, too busy holding onto the unbelievable feeling of stumbling towards euphoria together. But she listened, best she could, and let every moan, gasp, or cry that threatened release to tumble past her lips, loud and unabashed. Her nails bit into his shoulder blade and the back of his neck as they moved as one, spurring him on to repay the vocal kindness. 

So he did, with great exuberance. And with his lips ghosting over the shell of her ear, her nickname sounded more like growled praise rather than the normal term of light endearment. Betty came fast and loud at this angle, pressing her swollen clit against his pelvic bone through each purposeful thrust. With her head tilted she pulsed and shattered around him, a low cry of his name ringing in his ear as she ground down with all of her might.

Naturally, Jughead upped his intensity and speed, his hands still gripping into her ass and now clawing the back of her neck. He held her with every bit of strength he had left, his own climax claiming him moments after hers had ebbed. He pressed his lips and teeth to her shoulder as his body stiffened, shaking him from his deepest primal core. He released himself into her with a dark, throaty grunt, her hips still moving along with his. Lightheaded, gasping and seeing stars he pulled her impossibly closer, wrapping his arms around her middle while he tried to gather himself back to earth. She sighed deeply in return and snaked her arms around his shoulders, fingers deep in his hair. Once he was within his body again he eased his grip and flopped back against their plush bed with a heavy sigh.

Catching her own breath Betty chuckled and patted him victoriously on the chest.

"Holy shit..." Jughead grinned blindly, an arm across his eyes and forehead as his own choppy breathing regulated. "-Baby...That was incredible."

"I agree." She replied with a sweet giggle before slipping from her perch and into the bathroom. Moments later she returned with a glass of water and a warm towel, and after an efficient cleanup and rehydration, she was back in bed, curled against his body, using him a human pillow.

~~~

"Let's set a date," Jughead said quietly as his fingers carded through her hair. 

They laid together a tangled mess of limbs and sheets, her body draped mostly over him, leg hitched over his lap with her feet tucked up under his legs. Her head was heavy on his chest, an arm wrapped around his middle. She'd been still and silent for quite a while now, her low hums of approval vibrating through him as his fingers wove through her hair.

She answered him with another low hum, boneless and sated and starting to slip off into sleep.

"-I mean it, Betts." He continued, his free hand aimlessly running up and down the length of her back and side.

"When?" She asked groggily.

"Soon."

"Next year?"

"Try again,"

"Summer?" Betty offered.

"Even sooner,"

"Juggie..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !?!!??!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted some more smutt...so I wrote some more :)
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> ~~~

"Come on, Betts. What are we waiting for now?" Jughead asked with a playful whine.

"The house renovations..."

"Will be done by Christmas at this rate," He interrupted.

"You want a winter wedding?"

"I don't care what it looks like outside, I just want it to be official. I want all our friends and family in one place. I want to see you in a wedding dress. I want to call you my wife, for real."

"What happened to 'we can get hitched whenever you want' ?" Betty mocked lightly with a smirk up to him.

"Me saying that feels like a lifetime ago. Now I'm getting impatient." Jughead replied with a soft chuckle.

"When?" She asked again, the honesty in his voice dropping her own an octave as she rolled onto her belly to look up at him better.

"April?" He said hopefully.

"Less than 6 months from now?" She asked, a slight surge of panic flooding her, "-How would we pull something like that off in that short a time?"

"Like you don't know exactly what you want,"

Betty smirked resting her chin on his chest, of course, that was true. She had everything mapped out already. It was just a matter of putting it all in motion and executing it. She had 4 years to daydream, after all, never mind all the childhood plans and ideas that were either solid or at this point outdated.

"I just want this, Jug." She replied nuzzling against him again.

Jughead pulled her in, "You're happy to stay just like this?" Betty nodded. "-Live the common law life forever?" She shook her head 'no' this time. "-Well, which is it, Cooper?" He asked with another soft chuckle.

"It's Jones," She corrected.

"Not officially," Jughead quipped without missing a beat.

Betty cocked an eyebrow but relented quickly, "I digress,"

"Why the hesitation then?"

"I don't know. I just want to have time to plan it properly."

"I would expect nothing less. But, you've been planning this off and on for like 4 years. You spent the last few months of your maternity leave with both Hunter and Emmit basically building a wedding binder."

"I know, " Betty sighed.

"So what is it?"

She was quiet for a long while then, so long that he thought she had fallen asleep. So he pulled her closer again, waiting to see if she would stir. She did as if she had been startled back into reality.

"Once we set a date, Alice will try to take the reins." Betty explained, her voice quiet and borderline remorseful, "-Once we say when she'll try to take over. And I just...I don't want to fight with her again. Or ever. I fought my way out from under her thumb so long ago. I don't want to regress. I can't."

He nodded along as she spoke. Because he got it. Really, he did. He understood her thought process entirely. Though distance had improved Betty and Alice's relationship, she was still Alice. Still overstepping, still overbearing, still insensitive and still ever the perfectionist Alice fucking Cooper. Throughout the years Alice had tried to nose her way into her daughter's decisions. Though it was always from a distance, and easier to ignore on account of the miles, it was still an undercurrent to their Mother-Daughter relationship. Betty had worked hard at keeping a balance with Alice. Keeping her within the loop, but not part of the inner circle, and certainly not part of the club who helped decide things. Her apprehension was valid, if not expected. The fact that she was hesitant because of Alice still frustrated him, but furthermore, it made him all the more eager to plan around the controlling woman and give the woman of his dreams the day she deserved.

"You're a different person. You're not the complacent Betty Cooper she thought she knew. You're fierce. Always have been. And at this point, I don't think Alice could control you, even if she tried."

She smiled up at him, "Thanks, Juggie. I appreciate that."

He threw her a gentle lopsided smirk before reaching down to kiss her forehead.

"How about this, we keep it a secret until everything is set and paid for?"

"A secret? In Riverdale?"

"Maybe? As much as we can? I don't know. Order everything online? We could even do the wedding here? We have the room. There's that old gazebo, near the greenhouse. We could fix it up and use that for the ceremony? That would avoid booking something in Riverdale, where prying eyes and perked ears run rampant." 

She sat silently again before she spoke up, "I hadn't thought of that,"

"It could be fun. We could sleep in our own bed on our wedding night."

Betty snuggled into him and the sheets for dramatic effect, "That would be rather convenient,"

"It could be like hosting a big dinner party."

"Like a big dinner party, he says..."

"At least, think about it, Betts. I won't have Alice looming over us. We're smarter than that old bat. We can scheme and sleuth around her."

She giggled lightly, "I'll think harder about it, Juggie."

"Good. Now, rest up, darling. Round two in the morning." 

Betty giggled again, drowsily this time with some mumbled agreement before giving in to slumber. 

Jughead, however, laid awake, absorbed in the warm flickering glow of the dying firelight against the smooth skin of her back and shoulder while she slept. 

He had been thinking a lot about marriage over the past few months. Now that the boys were older the thought of actually throwing a party like that wasn't so daunting. Their desire to get hitched had ebbed and flowed throughout their entire relationship, a narrative etched into their very beginning. They had even entertained the thought of eloping, a pipe dream that nearly came to fruition on her 21st birthday. Prior to that, they had teased each other about marriage, a common 'what if?' topic dating all the way back to the first mention of spending the rest of their lives together, side by side. He had told her once, not too far from here that he would, one day, marry the shit out of her, and he was bound and determined to make good on that promise.

Not only that, Betty just simply deserved to be celebrated. She deserved every drop of fawning and pampering a beautiful young bride could receive on her wedding day. She deserved to be praised and adorned with finery, then later worshiped. Though she was far too practical and modest to actually want to be the center of attention, she deserved to be. She deserved to be catered to and honoured, daily really, and throwing a party just gave him an excuse to force everyone else in their lives to lionize her as well.

Soon Jughead felt the warm lull of sleep flood him. He slipped under to the thought of Betty walking down the aisle, looking like a straight-up real-life angel, her eyes on him and him alone, after all these years. 

~~~

The next morning seemed to come swiftly, the foggy fall gloom still clinging to everything outside. As Jughead stirred awake he tried his best not to move too much, with Betty's embrace still hooked and grappled over him. Staring at the vaulted ceiling he laid awake for a while until his bladder wouldn't allow for any more procrastinating. So he skillfully performed a quick 'hug and roll', effectively slipping from her grip and out of their sheets swiftly and quietly. He then used the facilities before getting dressed in some soft, well-worn loungewear and tending to their bedroom fire. 

Betty would be asleep for as long as possible that morning, giving him the perfect opportunity to unpack his library effects. He snatched his zip-up hoodie she had been wearing yesterday from the pile of laundry near her closet space and pulled that on too. The threads smelled pleasantly like her burnt honey aroma as he zipped it up to his chin and made his way downstairs.

He started fires in both the kitchen and family room fireplaces then brewed a strong pot of coffee before stepping into the quiet space of their library. Inhaling a breath of determination Jughead got to work. First, he started a fire in the wood stove, one which appeared to be an original cast-iron oven unit, maybe from the first home built on the property. He then opened a couple windows to allow some cool fresh autumn air to mix with the dust and musk. After de-ghosting all the furniture and moving the large couches, chairs and tables around slightly the coffee machine chimed. So he shuffled into the kitchen to fish out the biggest mug they had. He poured the black steaming nectar, made his way back into the cave, then connected his wireless speaker up to some quiet music and got right into it. He set to work on wiping the dust from all suffuses, then started unpacking. He unboxed their books first, followed by his comic collection, only getting distracted by reading a few times. Then he unloaded his plaques, diplomas and some sentimental Jones photos and photo albums along with his record collection and their old yearbooks.

~~~

A few hours later, once everything was set up to his liking, Jughead sat with a satisfied sigh at one of the antique desks. This one was an old roll top number, pushed up against the far wall, equipped with a classic, green-glass, dome desk lamp. He cracked open his laptop for the first time since leaving Seattle, dreading the accumulation of emails he likely had. He had knowingly been putting off his work, reluctant to rejoin the real world, feeling the full tranquillity of their quiet country life seeping into every corner of his reality. But, his responsibilities really couldn't be postponed or avoided forever, and if nothing else he needed to get in touch with his writing partners. So now he scoured through his notifications, perused his very limited social media and finally dropped into his business email. His inbox was indeed overflowing, and he happily replied to some, whereas the rest were either junk or to be dealt with at a later date. 

Just as he was making some headway in his culling of emails a new one popped up and his guts sank.

A message from Trula Twist.

What. The. Ever. Loving. Fuck? What in the hell could she even want?

His curser paused and hovered over the notification like the fluttering of a hesitant hummingbird. With a frown and a shake of his head, he finally clicked the link, opening up a message with the subject line: 'Remember Me?'

Unfortunately, yea...

~   
Hey Jonesy, 

I hope this email finds you well. 

Word on the street is that you and your nerdy comic book friends are up for a potential movie deal. 

My boss remembered that we knew each other and asked me to put my feelers out and see what type of PR representation you guys had. 

If you are you are already spoken for: no harm, no foul. Otherwise, drop me a line. We would love to do business with you. Maybe get you all on a book tour? Help you figure out what you guys want to do with all this new potential?

Let me know as soon as you can, as we hope to get the ball rolling for you as quickly as possible.

Regards,  
Trula.   
~

Jughead re-read the email, wondering, again, how word travelled so fucking fast. He quickly forwarded the info to both Jinx and Fletcher, adding to the body of the message that he wanted nothing to do with the woman, but that she did pose an interesting question. Should they hire a publicist? None of them had any idea on how to manage a public persona, and Jughead was keen on staying out of the limelight, as much as possible, anyway. Jinx was the most outgoing of the 3 and would be a natural choice as the face to their 'names', but this was defiantly something they needed to figure out quickly and before they signed anything.

He also needed to figure out how to tell Betty. 

Trula was a sore spot for the both of them, a name neither had uttered in years. A name kept so mum that he had almost forgotten it...almost. After the initial conversation years ago they now skirted around the topic, accepting that their time apart had, in fact, happened, though also remembering that it was neither of their crowning moments. They treated their time away, 'the great unrest' and people associated with it silently, as though speaking the names involved might somehow summon them, or conjure their spirits forward. Trula was like curse word that each dare not speak, like fuck, or cunt, or Adam...

But, he kept nothing from Betty, now more so than ever, having kept his moons ago promise of being more forthcoming with her. Though he knew this interaction with was minuscule, innocent, and business orientated it was still something he needed to confess to her.

"Morning," Betty interrupted brightly, startling Jughead slightly out of his spiralled thoughts.

He spun around to find her leaning against the door jamb, in that sleek silk blue robe again, only this time it was her fuzzy star covered PJ pants that came out the bottom and not the smooth skin of her mile-long legs. 

His cock twitched at the sight, all the same. 

He'd have to confess his shit later. Now all he could do was rise, close their distance and wrap her up in a big bear hug.

"Good morning," He replied against the crown of her head.

She let out the most adorable and blissful sigh while nuzzling into his chest. Her arms wrapped around his waist so securely that all Jughead could do was squeeze her tight.

"How'd you sleep?"

"So well,"

"Me too," Betty said, tilting her chin to rest on his chest, her clear green eyes peering up to him fondly.

Jughead melted and leaned in to kiss her forehead, "Last night was fun,"

She smirked, "This morning too,"

"Was it morning?" He asked smugly to which Betty replied with a coy shrug. 

She had been woken out of a sound sleep early that morning to a delightful warm lapping at her core, his soft hair tickling the inside of her thighs. It took her a moment to come to and fully realize what was happening before she reached under the covers to thread her fingers through his thick tresses. She held him tightly in place while lifting her hips to his overtly attentive mouth, moaning strings of dazed obscenities. Moments later he had her falling apart with nothing but his tongue. 

What followed was mesmeric, raw, and consuming, drastically different to the edging control game they played earlier that night. That twilit coupling was akin to worship. A blind devotion of adoration through movement. 

With warm familiar bodies pressed tight, skin connected to skin, they moved together like crashing waves to a shoreline. In those close confines, their breaths were shared, hands gripped and clawed, while moans and gasps echoed. They chased their mutual highs together, reaching explosive ecstasy one right after the other. 

"I think it was morning? It was so hard to focus." She confessed with a soft chuckle.

"Speak for yourself. I was very focused." Jughead replied as he leaned down for a slow kiss. 

Betty pressed into him, lips eager and tongue wondering. Jughead welcomed her vigour, coiling along with her, tasting their sweet mix of his black coffee and her cinnamon toothpaste. Her stance withered slightly while they kissed, their tongues rubbing and bodies stirring awake. She made a soft needy sound as he pulled back, but the vibrations of her chest against his felt like waves of soothing liquid over him and he couldn't help but dive in again. 

"You were the epitome of focus, I'd say." She managed to reply before his lips were slanted over hers. 

This slow nurse of lips continued unhurriedly before the need for clear air pulled them from one another. Betty smirked, watching his long lashes flutter open to meet her gaze adoringly. With a smirk of his own, he pushed a few stray locks of blonde over her ear, his fingers then wrapped smoothly around the back of her neck, a thumb running along the apple of her cheek. He came forward and kissed her thoroughly once more, slowly falling into that sensual build. Her hand immediately dropped from the back of his arm to cup and palm his hardening length through the fleecy fabric of his PJ pants. Kissing him deeply she trapped his breathy groans between her lips, elated at how responsive he always was to her slightest touch.

"Betts," Jughead sighed against her lips during a pause for breath.

"What?" She purred while purposely elongating her caresses, alternating in pressure and speed, "-I'm making up for lost time," She then replied confidently.

Betty then stepped and moved in even closer, leaning most her weight on one leg and the rest against the side of his body, angling herself for ease of movement. Thankfully he had already stumbled back to lean against the large desk near the middle of the room, the move allowing him to unlock his knees and level with her better.

"In here?" He asked wryly, his smirk crooked and lazy. His breathing had become more laboured already as she continued to palm him.

"Ideally in every room of our house." She then replied against his neck, littering the skin she found there with slow licks, nips and pecks.

The library door was still wide open, the window blinds and shutters too, not that any of that really mattered. They were in the middle of nowhere, in their new home, alone, for the first time in what felt like a long time. They could indulge if they wanted to. And god, when she moved against him as she did, he wanted to. But his head felt like it was in a vice and the caffeine-induced headache he had reminded him that he would need to eat first, no matter how badly he, and clearly his body, wanted her.

Jughead groaned before answering, "If that's the case, you'll need to feed me first,"

"After." Betty murmured. Watching her hands work she traced the waistline of his pants, her knuckles slowly dragging across his skin from hipbone to hipbone.

Jughead took in a sharp breath at the sensation, "I mean it." He warned.

"Sure you do." She said, dragging her gaze up to meet his.

"I do!" He laughed a little breathless, trying to convince himself just as much as her that it was wiser to eat now and ravish her better later.

"I'm pretty sure you'll pull through," She replied lowly.

"Two pots of coffee does not a stable lover make." He half-joked holding a shaky hand out as proof.

With a warm smile, she seemed to concede, noting the quake in his fingers. Though most of his shakiness could be attributed to her hand stroking his cock Jughead was notorious for drinking too much coffee on a near empty stomach. A habit he has picked up on their cross country road trip. Wake up. Start fire. Boil water. Brew coffee. Drink. Then...Life.

Now, he knew better, or so he thought. But he had just gotten too sucked into the tranquillity of their library to remember to eat; an oversight. An inconvenient oversight, in hindsight.

She cocked her head and an eyebrow, studying him, "Alright, alright." She teased as she backed off, holding her hands up in mock surrender, "-I don't want you to hurt yourself, old man. Let's get some food and orange juice in ya, even out that blood sugar."

~~~

Betty made them a champions meal of homemade breakfast sandwiches with avocado, tomato, fried egg, crispy bacon and melty cheese; the works, on a brioche bun. The boys called them Breaky Sandys, so she did too, however, they only liked ketchup on theirs.

"Breakfast was excellent," Jughead said as he washed up their minimal dishes.

She moved and cleaned up her own mess of ingredients. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much."

"Good. Mission accomplished," Betty replied lightly, gulping down the last of her orange juice.

"I've gotta say, Betts, the house looks really amazing. I can't believe how far you guys have gotten." He commented, looking around their large and terribly functional kitchen.

"Well, you weren't here to distract me."

"Me?! Distract you!?" Jughead huffed out a laugh while drying his hands on a nearby tea towel, "-That's hardly true. It's always been the other way around and you know it, Cooper,"

"It's Jones." She quipped over her shoulder while she finished wiping down the countertop.

Jughead chuckled deeply as he turned and stepped in behind her. He pulled her long blonde hair off her shoulder, fingertips ghosting down the long slope of her neck with the movement. She tilted her head, allowing the sensual caress to warm her.

"Not yet." He replied lowly, "-Speaking of distractions, did you wear this again just to taunt me?" He then asked against the shell of her ear, his fingers running up the silky fabric covering both her arms.

"No." She quipped, a bit too quickly, while his fingers hooked into the neckline of her robe. His digits then slipped down the deep v from behind until he found the knot tied at her waist.

"Liar." He whispered into her ear, sending a rush of goosebumps across her entire body.

Betty let out a shuttered laugh as he worked the knot loose, "Shouldn't we like...wait a half hour or so?" She asked, her head tipping back to rest on his shoulder, "-You know, to digest properly?"

"We could." He reasoned while his hands swept across her belly, bunching buttery fabric away from his touch, "-I could tease you for the next half an hour,"

Betty let out a soft sob at the prospect, knees shaking. Jughead kissed along her neck, pulling the blue silk off her shoulders, allowing the threads to slip down her back and arms. She steadied herself with her palms pressed flat onto the countertop, using the resistance to push herself flush against him. He was hard and warm behind her, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through her and pooling warmth at her already aching core.

"-However, I am feeling a bit selfish." He confessed tracing the thin straps down the front of her camisole, palms gliding over the soft swell of her breasts, fingertips rolling past taught nipples, sliding his touch even lower.

"But, patience is a virtue, dearest." She gasped when his hands dipped under the hem of her wispy tanktop and smoothed over the skin of her stomach.

"That few men possess, my love," Jughead said with his hands down her pants now. "-You got me all riled up earlier."

Betty moaned heartily, rolling her hips and ass back against his solid length. She heard his breath catch as his hands moved over her hips, taking her loose pants down with the swift movement. She hardly had a moment to step one leg out of the fabric at her ankles before he cupped her mound, teasing her with a feather-light touch.

"Yes." She breathed, pushing back harder again and rolling her hips towards his hand.

Jughead groaned now as he dipped in to find her soaked core, he then pushed and pulled his fingers through her thick arousal as he spoke in awe, "You wouldn't have lasted a half hour anyway,"

Betty shook her head 'no', with eyes screwed shut and heart racing. She then moved a hand behind herself and unceremoniously pushed the elastic waistline of his pants over one of his narrow hips. Jughead hummed his understanding and helped work the flannel fabric down his legs.

Without missing a beat he stepped out of the pool of clothes at his feet and pushed Betty over the kitchen island. With strong hands on her back and hip, he bent her over the cold quartz, his feet knocking her legs out wider. With a gasp, she quickly settled into position, while his fingers tracked into her drenched valley from behind. He circled her clit firmly and purposefully, earning low moans of praise from her.

"Jug..." She rasped out as he picked up his speed, pressing his bare lower half hard against her thigh. "-You're gonna make me cum."

"Good," Jughead muttered against her ear, his voice rough and heavy. 

However, he slowed his ministrations, revelling in the low frustrated growl that escaped her, how her head dropped forward with a dull thud, the way her hips opened and rolled back towards his touch. As Betty writhed below him, he took himself in hand, palming himself, in vain, for a few strokes as he watched himself play with her. The delicious curve of her spine as it bowed in pleasure flooded his mouth with desire and made it near impossible for him to wait any longer.

So he didn't. 

Not bothering to wait for another breath he slid his rigid length into her grip easily, pushing an erotic gasp from her lips as he entered her to the hilt. He waited a moment, breathing in the sweet relief of being buried deep inside her once again, before dragging himself out almost completely. Betty moaned sensually at the depth he was able to achieve and held her arms out wide, fingers trying to reach her grip around the sides of the lengthy countertop. She lifted to him with every single thrust as he pushed into her tirelessly, swiftly pulling out and driving right back in, again and again. Having learned her lesson last night she didn't even try to keep her cries to a minimum, calling out a mixed bag of praise, curse words, and his name, taking well advantage of being alone in this giant house.

Jughead kept a heavy hand on the small of her back, while the other dug into the solid meat of her hip and thigh, grounding her to the countertop and keeping her deeply rooted to him. This eternity in an instant had him feeling as though he was losing his mind, his body rushing towards yet another earth shifting climax before he was truly ready. So, holding onto his composure he quickly curled his arm around her waist and pulled her back, plunging in even deeper. His free fingers found the swollen bundle of nerves at her core again and smoothly rolled the nub, her walls beginning to tighten and flutter around him as she held out, clearly trying to wait for him.

"Good girl," Jughead praised, to which she replied with a breathless whine, "-That's right. Let go." He then commanded simply.

She fell apart the moment the last syllables left his lips, moaning and shattering into a quaking mess below his weight. He lost it then too, her strong grip pulling him over the edge with filthy moans of her praise filling his ears. He released himself with a low grunt, his hold now on both her hips, pushing in unfathomably deeper, as jolts of electricity surged through him. 

Spent and panting Jughead slumped forward. His hands ran up the long expanse of her back to cap her shoulders, his lips resting between her shoulder blades. He pressed a few deliberate kisses to her back before he straightened and pulled out and away from her warmth.

"Wow," Betty mumbled with her face still pressed against the counter.

With a knowing laugh, he smacked her ass and bent to help her into her pants before hoisting up his own. She scoffed playfully and shimmied into her bottoms before snatching her robe off the floor.

"-Two rooms down, only eight or so to go," She said playfully, wrapping herself in up her robe again.

"Give or take a couple." Jughead joked as his breathing evened out. He smoothed his hands over her shoulder lovingly, kissing her forehead before moving to get a drink of water.

"You were right. By the way."

"Hmm?" He hummed as he downed a huge glass.

"I did wear this again for you."

With a smug smile, he replied, "I knew it," 

"It's not the most functional piece of clothing I own, that's for sure," Betty said with a shiver.

"I don't think I'll be able to see you in it again without getting hard." He confessed, refilling his glass from the tap and offering it to her.

"I'll keep that in mind," Betty replied softly. She took the cup from his hands and polished off its contents, setting the glass down once she was through. 

"It's not like you to forget something like that." 

Betty shrugged a cunning reply with another easy smile before reaching up to place a quick chaste kiss to his lips.

"I'm going to change into something warmer." She said with a nod over her shoulder.

Jughead let out a long pleased sigh as she slipped away. He then glanced at the coffee pot, contemplating brewing another round but he decided against it. He then wondered heedlessly into their library again, content and empty-handed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more ultra fluffy chapter to go within this story...
> 
> Be sure to tell me what you think! 
> 
> Comments really go a long way in keeping me motivated, and I appreciate every single one more than words can express!
> 
> xox


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a sweet, fluffy, domestic chapter with our favourite nerdy, history buff, bibliophiles to wrap this little story up.
> 
> Also some very serious 'good dad' vibes from Jughead in this chapter...so... *swoon*
> 
> ~~~

A few moments later Betty joined him in their library. Still in her PJ pants, she had changed into a black fitted long sleeve shirt and her fuzzy bathrobe hung open over her shoulders. Her hair was up now, her once iconic ponytail still far beyond reproach.

He sat on a long couch facing the window, his legs outstretched, ankles hooked and resting atop the coffee table in front of him, an old paperback he'd read a thousand times before waiting on the end table next to him

As Betty passed him with a smile, she unloaded the bundle of goods in her arms onto the coffee table. She'd brought in some snacks, a couple of juice boxes, her journal, a couple of pens and her laptop. She then turned to the bookshelves behind them, eyes brightly scouring through the 'new to them' titles.

"We inherited some really great classics." 

"We really did. Collecting them for ourselves would have taken years, and thousands."

"Check this one out," Betty said holding the spine of a dated book out for him to read.

"1903 to 1973?"

Betty flipped it open, wafting the smell of dank paper into the air, "It's a ledger,"

She relaxed into a cozy high back armchair within the same seating area across from him. Her laptop and journal were all but forgotten now that her attention was caught up in the handwritten leather-bound book. It was a homestead journal, started by the first family to live and work on the property and kept through the decades. Although the diligence became more sporadic through the '60s and on it was still a vast history of the land and, in turn, Midvale, Greendale and Riverdale.

The first homesteader family kept tack for their structural builds and their garden plots. They tallied births, deaths, marriages and other significant occurrences, along with the changing and fluctuating weather patterns. As the years went on the ledger read of a time where the house was a halfway point for traveling miners, a period during the prohibition where they had made and stashed maple moonshine in the cellar, a few years during the war where they grew hemp for rope and textiles and a time where they also grew flowers for a small floral shop in Riverdale, the land's history well documented and easy to follow within the pale pages.

As Jughead settled into his own paperback reading Betty would rattle off interesting information to him when she came across it, she would show him old black and white pictures that were slipped into the creases or would point out charcoal scribbles left from dwellers before. She would comment on different facts and vowed to add their story to the dusty tome's pages.

~~~

The dreary early afternoon flew by in a blink with their comfortable banter and periods of long easy silence ticking the time away quickly.

"So, I got an interesting email today, " Jughead said, breaking the peaceful quiet they had slipped into once again.

"Oh?" Betty replied, looking up from her book, "- From?"

"You're not going to like it much." He warned locking eyes with her from across the seating space.

"I think I can handle it," She laughed.

"It was from Trula."

The silence that followed was as thick as the lump of trepidation stuck in his throat before she asked, "What?" 

Though her voice was calm it was steely, which didn't help quell his anxiety much. If anything it made it much worse. But he hadn't done anything wrong, so his apprehension was fairly unwarranted. All the same, he swallowed thickly and continued.

"Her firm wants to represent us." He explained clearly.

"And you said?"

"Nothing. I sent the info to Fletch. Told him I didn't want anything to do with her, but that we might need to think about hiring some other publicist."

"Huh."

He watched as her gaze dropped to the book now closed in her lap. She was obviously deep in thought, her fingers fiddling with the throw across her legs, her teeth worrying at her lip through their prolonged silence.

"That's it? 'Huh'?"

She shrugged, locking eyes with him again, "You know how I feel about her, Jughead."

"I do."

She shrugged once more, "But as long as you're not going to contact her."

"I have no reason to. Nor do I want to."

"Good. If, for some reason, she does message you again directly, let me answer." Betty replied, an evil grin spreading across her lips now, "-I'll give her something to represent."

Jughead's eyebrows shot up, "You will, will you?

Betty gave him a singular head nod before she got up and she joined him on the couch. "You bet I will," She smirked.

"I love it when you get all feisty," He confessed as she settled in next to him. She moved fluidly and crossed her legs up under herself, shins running along the length of his thigh.

"I know you do." Betty said. 

She then shuffled in closer while he dropped his head to the side to look at her better, a dark wave of hair falling over his forehead. She paused there a moment, reaching up to push his loose tresses back. She watched as his gaze roamed over her, a slight smile that matched her own tugged at his lips.

Jughead involuntarily turned his upper half towards her, leaning his head into her touch. Electricity ran through him when she reached her free hand forward to wad his hoodie up in her balled fist at his chest. She pulled him towards herself, eyes never veering from him as she closed the small space between them. She pressed her lips to his softly a few times, kissing him tenderly, thoroughly, and tempestuously. 

Her hand now pushed through his thick hair, nails lightly scraping his scalp while their tongues touched thoughtfully. He felt himself blindly leaning forward, falling into her. His one hand cradled the back of her head, to keep her against his lips, while the other landed low on her hip, gripping in and trying to stabilize himself. Her deliberate grip on his hair had him reeling though, and the slight tugs on his collar she made along with her quiet sighs as their tongues tangled passionately had him losing control and focus quickly.

"You're mine." Betty breathed as she pulled away from their amorous embrace.

A dazed Jughead confirmed, "I'm yours."

"Don't you forget it."

"I couldn't possibly."

~~~

When Jughead glanced at the clock next it was almost 5 pm. After their mid-afternoon make-out session, they snacked-out pretty hard. Betty then promptly fell asleep, and since he had been reading and writing, feeling strangely inspired in this new but historic and slightly gothic space.

Now, looking down at his lap he found Betty still fixed fast asleep, the soft steady rhythm of her breath leaving him weary in waking her. 

But, he knew he would have to.

"Honey," He said softly with a slight shake of her shoulder.

She stirred softly, "Hmm?"

"We have to go pick up the boys,"

"Oh...I fell asleep?" Betty mumbled drowsily, pushing herself up to a seated position.

"You did. I can go into town if you'd like."

"What time is it?"

"Almost 5,"

"I'll get started on dinner then?"

"Don't bother. The boys have likely already eaten at your mom's, and we can scrap something together for just the two of us, once I'm home. You should soak up this last little bit of quiet."

"Ok." She said and eased back into the couch.

Jughead stood, stretched and gathered the garbaged, scooping it up then ferrying it all into the kitchen. 

"Maybe call an order in to Pop? I can pick it up on my way out of town?" He called back to Betty. 

"Something we can warm up again?"

"Exactly." He confirmed on his way past the study's doorway.

"I will." 

He then quickly ran upstairs to change into some proper pants, grabbing his old red plaid sherpa coat and stuffing he feet into his boots on his way back to the library.

"Ok. I'll see you soon, dear," Jughead said, now ready for the road, fully dressed in his beanie, jeans and jacket.

He bent over the backrest of the couch and kissed her cheek, "Love you. Drive safe." She replied.

"I will." He assured with a final kiss to her lips. "-Love you too."

~~~~

Approaching the Cooper's house, without Betty, and knocking on the front door felt freakishly foreign. 

Every single time they had been back in Riverdale since moving away was together, for a holiday or some other family function. Standing there alone he felt like a teenager again, knocking and waiting for Alice the Dragon to grant him access to his guarded princess in her treetop tower. Now, he felt awkward, and out of place, and not like he was a full grown adult who was simply there to pick his kids up from their gramma's. 

He bounced on his heels as he waited for his soon to be mother-in-law to open up, avoiding the urge to fidget with his beanie by shoving his hands into his pockets, all while listening to the bustle of activity quiet slightly as Alice approached the front door. She swung the door open and at her feet were his bounding with energy sons. Both were dressed in their jammies, freshly bathed, with damp ink-black hair combed back slick, their grins wide.

"Daddy!!" They both shrieked. 

Jughead couldn't help but match their happiness, his own grin just as wide as theirs. Though he could see Alice rubbing at her ears with an admonishing look about her, he didn't care. He was elated to see his kids again, cup runneth over with the unabashed love he felt for them and received back in return.

"Hi, guys!" He gushed squatting down to greet his munchkins. 

"Look what I made!?!" Hunter exclaimed, thrusting a sheet of his brightly coloured artwork into his dad's face.

Taking the paper from Hunter, Jughead hoisted Emmit into his arms and stood, kissing his forehead a few times before holding him against his side. Emmit held his collar tight and said nothing as Jug inspected the drawing.

"Woah! Did you do this with macaroni?" To which Hunter nodded enthusiastically, "-That's awesome!"

"June helped. But I did it all by myself." The boy informed loftily.

Nodding along Jughead inspected the masterpiece further, smiling more at how proud his beaming son was, rather than the simple glitter covered art itself. 

"What if I get hungry?" He asked as he pretended to eat the glue and paint covered pasta.

"No, daddy! Is for da' fridge!!"

"Oh, ok," He said with a wink, "-Grab your bag ok? We have to go pick up milkshakes for mommy,"

"Otay!!" Hunter yelled bouncing down the hall to the kitchen and back again in a flash.

Jughead turned his still exultant smile to Alice, "Thanks for taking them for the night." 

He then snuggled Emmit, rubbing into the crook of his neck while blowing raspberry sounds into his skin. The youngest boy giggled and wrapped his small arms around his dad's neck even tighter with a wiggling squirm.

"They were very well behaved. Polly, June and TJ came by, they all watched a movie." Alice reported.

"That's good. Thanks again. I know Betty really appreciated the break."

"Of course. I am their grandmother, after all. Although, still, not legally." Alice snipped back as she helped Hunter put his coat, hood and shoes on, "-When will you make an honest woman out of my Betty?"

... My Betty? Jughead grimaced. He didn't even bother hiding it either.

He knew it was only a matter of time before Alice started to really harass them about setting a wedding date. He just didn't think it would be like this, but he really shouldn't have been even slightly surprised. It was nearly World War 3 when Betty told Alice that they were having Hunter out of wedlock, and a similar reaction when they had Emmit. It was an unnecessary barrage of 'What will we tell people?' And, 'Who's name will they have?' Along with, 'If something happens to Betty, who will take care of them?' from Alice. All of which landed her in the dog house and excommunicated for almost an entire year prior to the birth of both boys, separately. 

Keeping his anger in check Jughead ran his tongue across teeth and plastered a tight-lipped smile to his face. He then shimmied Emmit's jacket and shoes on, improvising since the boy refused to let go of the death grip he currently had around his dad's neck.

"That's entirely up to your daughter, Mrs. Cooper," He said quietly.

"It's Alice, Forsythe." 

"Right." He replied quickly, wrangling Hunter towards the front door, "- Well thanks again, we'll talk soon."

Alice then kissed both her grandsons' goodbye and patted Jughead's shoulder lightly on his way out the door. 

~~~

After strapping both kids into their car seats the dark-haired trio made their short journey through town to Pop's. 

Hunter's vocabulary had always been expansive for his age, and as they made their way to the diner, not a moment passed where the boy wasn't talking. Though Emmit could and did speak, true to form, he just sat quietly and listened, head swivelling back and forth as Jughead addressed Hunter's many questions, comments, and concerns.

~~~

Stepping into Pop's was like stepping back in time, in the nicest way possible. Everything was exactly the same. Same Jukebox, same music. Same menu, same food. It all looked the same, smelled the same and even the cast of characters loitering at the bar top was the same, as if time stood still and no time at all had passed since they had left. 

The jingle of the front door turned some heads as the Jones boys stepped through the familiar diner threshold and into the warm space.

"The prodigal son returns!" Pop beamed as he came around the counter to greet Jughead.

He smiled earnestly, "Hey Pop, good to see you."

Pop let out a rich laugh and opened his arms for a hug, "You too, Jug. How's it feel to be home?"

"Good. Weird. Nothing's changed. But everything's changed?"

 "Well, we're glad to have you back,"

He stepped away from the quick embrace when Hunter tugged on his pants, "Thanks. I'm glad to be back,"

"Hell, it'll be great for business."

Jughead laughed with a nod, "That's true. Hey, boys, this is my good friend, Pop,"

"We know Pops. From mommy." Hunter said with his slight slur as he pushed his hood off.

Emmit stood wordlessly next to his big brother, nodding in agreement and picking at the snap buttons of his coat with his little fingers.

"We've met a few times now." Pop replied with a smile down to the boy.

"I keep forgetting that I just got back but that these guys must be old news by now."

"I wouldn't say that. Carbon copies of their parents though, that, I would say."

Jughead smirked, looking down to his tykes below, wide-eyed and curious. He smoothed Hunter's wild drying hair as the boy's attention shifted again, back to the shop owner standing behind the counter when he began to speak.

"Did you boys know that I knew your dad when he was little?!"

Two pairs for bright inquisitive green eyes turned wide towards Jughead, who nodded his agreement.

"Daddy was not little," Hunter replied with a scowl.

"He was. Your mommy too."

"Mommy too?" Emmit asked in awe.

"You bet!" Pop said.

"Nuh-uh," Hunter interjected.

"Yea-huh! And even your Uncle Arch!" Pop argued.

The boys looked at each other, then up to the adults again, bewildered, and in disbelief, trying to put all this new information together.

"Daddy used to come here every day," Jughead explained.

"Mommy too?!" Emmit inquired once more.

"Yup, we would hang out here all the time," He said with a smile.

"Grampy let you?" Emmit asked.

Jughead thought back a moment. It wasn't as though FP had 'let' him, per se, rather he just wasn't around to say no. But, that was information best kept to one's self until hearts weren't so squishy and minds were a bit more developed.

"He sure did," He replied instead.

Pop placed a large bag of chicken tenders, fries and gravy on the bar top and handed Jughead a tray with 2 extra large milkshakes, one chocolate and one 'Betty Special', catching the boys still staring up in wonder.

"Next time you're in, I'll show you how to make a milkshake. You can even pour the syrup!"

"Yay!" The kids burst out in bouncing unison.

"I wrapped it all up in thermal paper, but, I'd put them in the oven when you get home." Pop said to Jughead.

He nodded, then started to fish his wallet out, Pop Tate waved him off though, pushing his goods towards his hands instead.

"On our tab?" 

"On the house." Pop clarified.

"Pop..."

"What? The first order is free."

"This is hardly my first order,"

Pop waved him off again, "Minor details."

With a good-natured eye roll, Jughead nodded, "Alright. Thank You, Pop. We'll see you soon,"

"I count on it. Safe drive."

He nodded again as he started to herd his waddling children out to the car. But, grabby hands pawed at his jeans once more within the first few steps outside.

"Can I carry it?"

"Sure, Hunter. But both hands, please." Jughead replied, handing over the bag of fries.

Emmit grumbled his protest and tried to snatch the sturdy bag from his brother's grip. But Hunter shoved his hands away with a pointed command of 'no', to which he received a quick shove back in retaliation from Emmit. Jughead, noticing the commotion, halted them quickly and parented them smoothly before he offered Emmit the task of carrying the straws, an equally important task to his big brother's, or so he was informed.

~~~

The drive home knocked both boys out cold within the first few minutes on the road. A very light dusting of snow had begun to fall as Jughead made the hour-long journey back, driving the winding roadway from small town to even smaller town. He flicked through the local radio, landing on stations he had listened to as a kid, hulled up in his tree house. He recited, almost verbatim, each frequency call sign and chuckled at how easily some things seemed to come back.

He had taken Betty's car so as he neared their house he used her key fob to open the gated inlet. The rod-iron gate swung open for them and shut securely once he had driven through. He drove up their driveway slowly, high beams on, radio off, enjoying the quiet sombre nightlight that cloaked their peaceful countryside estate. He parked up front again before killing the engine. Leaving the sleeping boys behind he slipped into the house slightly, making a direct b-line to the kitchen.

"Hello, lovely. Want to get these warming back up?" Jughead said walking straight up to Betty at the sink and planting a heavy kiss to her cheek.

"Sure," Betty replied with a smile, taking the bag from his hands as he went to put the milkshakes in the freezer.

"Both boys are asleep in the car. Help me grab one when you're done?"

"Will do."

~~~

Once outside again Jughead gingerly unhooked Hunter from his car seat and gently hoisted him onto his shoulder like a small sack of potatoes. He got him upstairs and out of his coat without incident then tucked into his sheets and blankets just as Betty entered the room with a jacketless and sleeping Emmit cradled soundly in her arms. He moved to the smaller youngster's bed now to arrange the blankets back. She then gently deposited the munchkin, stepping back to allow Jughead to tuck him in as well.

Watching their kids sleep for a beat they let out a collective sigh of accomplishment just before Jughead stepped in behind Betty. His arms wound around her shoulders, lips pressed to the top of her head as he pulled her body in close.

Betty held his arms tightly around her, leaning back against him, "Let's do it," She whispered.

"Hmm?" Jughead mumbled into her hair, softly swaying their bodies to some unsung music.

"Get married...let's do it,"

"Yea?!" He replied, his voice jumping a touch with excitement, "-When?"

"April 4th." She informed definitively.

"Yea?!" 

Betty spun within his grip to face him, hands running up the planes of his chest. She tipped up, pulled at his jacket collar and pressed her lips to his purposefully as if to seal the deal with a kiss.

"Yea." She mimicked with their foreheads pressed together.

"Why the 4th?" He inquired quietly.

"Forth month. Fourth day. Four of us."

"You're adorable." He mused leaning in to meet her lips again. She moaned quietly as their tongues coiled gently, her body warm and awakening under his touch.

"It's settled then," Betty affirmed, pulling away to watch his eyes flutter back to focus on her once more.

"I'm excited," Jughead confessed with a shy smile.

"Me too." She beamed.

~~~

A quiet buzzing giddiness overtook them both and after changing back into their comfy clothes they ventured downstairs again.

Jughead brought their shakes into the library, as Betty tended to the chicken fingers, fries and gravy in the kitchen. Once everything was ready they settled into their earlier position on the couch together. They enjoyed their nostalgic diner fare while chatting about the wedding and all its possibilities. Well into the evening they set out a yellow legal pad and started to fill it with brainstormed scribbles, ideas, dreams and simple to-do tasks.

"Let's keep all this quiet until we have more details in place. The date can be on a need to know basis until we get closer," Betty implored.

"Anything you want, my love."

"With our small guest list, it'll just be easier."

"I know."

"Thank you." She said with a slight tilt of her head.

"Anything you want, my love." He repeated, his voice a tad lower this time, like he was unknowingly trying to drive his confession home.

Betty smiled graciously, "I'm going to take a bath." She said as she stood.

She then gathered the remnants of their meal and moved a few steps toward the door. Jughead took advantage of the extra legroom her moving had freed up and stretched his long limbs out, reaching his arms above his head with a yawn.

"Ok." He sighed absently.

"Join me?" Betty asked pointedly. 

With his attention perked, Jughead's smirk back was crooked and lazy as he replied, "Absolutely."

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another installment over and done with! ...wow...
> 
> A huge thank you goes to all my avid commenters. You guys keep me going. Honestly. I've said it a number of times but it doesn't make it any less true, without you, I wouldn't post. Full stop...
> 
> Also, a special thank you goes out to all you newcomers too. I see you ;) Thanks for taking a chance on me!
> 
> As always, don't be shy, let me know what you think! xox


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